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DRUM 


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The  Drum.  Reverend  Jesse  Jackson 
Volume  14,  Number  I  &  II 

University  of  Massachusetts 
Amherst,  Mass.  01003 
1-413-545-0768 

New  Africa  House 
Room  115 


FRONT  COVER:  "JESSE  JACKSON,"  Nelson  Stevens 
BACK  COVER:  Charles  Abrams 


DEDICATION 


This  page  of  DRUM  Magazine  is  dedi- 
cated to  John  Coleman  Wright,  Jr.,  who 
on  August  1,  1983  drowned  at  Puffers 
Pond  in  North  Amherst.  The  students 
at  UMass  who  knew  John,  knew  him  as 
the  star  hurdler  of  the  UMass  Men's 
Track  Team.  John  did  not  want  to  be 
known  only  for  track,  but  as  a  student 
of  Political  Science,  photo  editor  for 
NUMMO  NEWS  and  as  a  friend.  John 
was  to  finish  his  school  career  in  the  fall 
semester  of  1983.  John  was  a  good  ex- 
ample of  a  student-athlete  because  of 
the  way  he  stayed  up  on  his  studies  and 
ahead  of  the  other  hurdlers. 

He  was  the  kind  of  person  who 
would  enter  a  room  without  a  sound 
but  his  presence  was  known  to  all  in 
the  room.  John  always  seemed  to  find 
time  to  listen  if  you  had  a  problem  to 


tell.  One  could  always  see  John  with  his 
camera  around  his  neck  or  up  to  his  eye 
ready  to  snap  a  picture  whether  you 
were  ready  or  not.  His  love  of  running 
and  taking  pictures  was  surpassed  by  his 
love  for  planes.  Before  coming  to 
UMass,  John  was  deciding  whether  to  go 
to  UMass  or  to  go  straight  into  the  Air 
Force,  as  you  can  see,  UMass  was  the 
pick.  Coach  Ken  O'Brien,  of  the  UMass 
Men's  Track  Team  said  "He  was  a  very 
warm  person  with  an  infectious  atti- 
tude. He  had  the  ability  to  relate  to 
people  and  got  along  with  everyone." , 
This  is  true  because  at  the  funeral,  there 
were  coaches  and  other  hurdlers,  along 
with  friends  who  came  from  out  of 
state,  such  as  New  Hampshire  and 
Maine,  to  pay  their  respects  to  John. 
John  was  there  when  help  was  need- 


ed, as  a  Residential  Assistant,  at  track 
meets  when  he  would  not  run,  and 
during  summer  orientation  for  new 
students.  Once  a  person  had  met  John, 
that  person  would  have  a  friend  for 
life. 

Leah  Loftis 


"Your  artistic  creativity  was  soothing  to 
our  eyes  and  souls.  As  an  athlete,  the 
way  you  glided  over  the  hurdle  and 
passed  the  finish  line  made  us  all  feel 
like  the  winner  you  were.  And  as  a 
human  being,  you  showed  us  the  true 
meaning  of  friendship.  Your  spirit  shall 
live  on." 

Black    Home    Coming   in    Memory    of 
John  Coleman  Wright,  Jr. 
Afrik-Am/UMass 


STRONG  MEN  S8888Sg88g!8gS8g8888888888888Sg8888S??8S8ftS8geSS??8SSS:?8S88888g«8Seg8S88S8«S® 

The  strong  men  keep  coming  on. 
—  Sandburg 


They  dragged  you  from  homeland. 

They  chained  you  in  coffles. 

They  huddled  you  spoon-fashion  in  filthy  hatches, 

They  sold  you  to  give  a  few  gentlemen  ease. 

They  broke  you  in  like  oxen. 

They  scourged  you. 

They  branded  you. 

They  made  your  women  breeders, 

TJiey  swelled  your  numbers  with  bastards  .  .  . 

They  taught  you  the  religion  they  disgraced. 

You  sang: 
Keep  a-inchin '  along 
Laka  po'  inch  worm  .  .  . 

You  sang: 
Bye  and  bye 
I'm  gonna  lay  down  dis  heaby  load .  .  . 

You  sang: 

Walk  togedder,  chillen, 
Dontcha  git  weary  .  .  . 

The  strong  men  keep  a-comin '  on 
The  strong  men  git  stronger. 

They  point  with  pride  to  the  roads  you  built  for 

them, 

Tliey  ride  in  comfort  over  the  rails  you  laid  for 

them. 

They  put  hammers  in  your  hands 

And  said— Drive  so  much  before  sundown. 

You  sang: 
A  in 't  no  hammah 
In  dis  Ian ', 

Strikes  lak  mine,  bebby. 
Strikes  lak  mine. 


They  cooped  you  in  their  kitchens. 
They  penned  you  in  their  factories. 
They  gave  you  the  jobs  that  they  were  too  good 

for, 
They  tried  to  guarantee  happiness  to  themselves 
By  shuting  dirt  and  misery  to  you. 

You  sang: 
Me  an '  muh  baby  gonna  shine,  shine 
Me  an '  muh  baby  gonna  shine. 

The  strong  men  keep  a-comin  'on 
The  strong  men  get  stronger .  .  . 

They  bought  off  some  of  your  leaders 

You  stumbled,  as  blind  men  will .  .  . 

They  coaxed  you,  unwontedly  soft-voiced .  .  . 

You  followed  a  way. 

Then  laugh  ted  as  usual. 

They  heard  the  laugh  and  wondered; 

Uncomfortable; 

Unadmitting  a  deeper  terror .  .  . 

The  strong  men  keep  a-comin'  on 
Gittin' stonger .  .  . 


What,  from  the  slums 

Where  they  have  hemmed  you. 

What,  from  the  tiny  huts 

They  could  not  keep  from  you- 

What  reaches  them 

Making  them  ill  at  ease,  fearful? 

Today  they  shout  prohibition  at  you 
"Thou  shalt  not  this" 
"Thou  shalt  not  that" 
"Reserved  for  whites  only" 
You  laugh. 


One  thing  they  cannot  prohibit 


by  Sterlin  Brown 


Sl««g8gS?g«!?S5= 


The  strong  men  .  .  .  coming  on 
The  strong  men  gittin '  stronger. 
Strong  men  .  .  . 
«s«8e55;?!=«88eesggg«8«s:  Stronger .  .  . 


4 


84 


c 


'drum 


6    The  President-Reject  and  The  Last  Lady 
by  Andrew  Salkey 

11    Jazz:  Will  it  Survive 

by  Playthell  Benjamin 

22    Thoughts  on  Dick  Gregory 
by  Brad  Kaplan 

25    United  States  Intervention  in  Central  America 
by  Sister  Aott 

31    An  Interview  with  Tony  Batten 
by  Richard  Thorpe 


36 

Aveytara 

42 

Jesse's  Rainbow 

by  Brad  Kaplan 

44 

A  Salute  to  John  A.  Kendrick 

46 

An  Interview  with  Ray  Almeida 

by  Robert  Treixeira 

a  51  Paul  Carter  Harrison 

i  by  Schyleen  Quails  ^^ 

i  56  A  Discussion  with  Rev.  Robin  L.  Harden 

°  58  Centennial  Vision 

U  63  Messages  from  the  Prophets 
•S  by  James  Baldwin 


g  70    Quincy  Troupe 

^  by  Janice  Lowe 


w  75    Book  Review 


78    Don  King 

by  Leah  Loftis 


"  81     "Winners 


^Lfc  85    An  Excerpt  From  ^g^ 

^M^  Z?}'  7b«/  CflJe  Bambara  ^S9tk 


Photos  of  Tony  Batten,  Quincy  Troupe,  and  Paul  Harrison,  by  Adger  Cowans 


^K>Boeoeooeooe>Booooo^Hoa^H»  RAPE  POEM  ^>ooeoooBO»oc»eooooeoeooeo« 

By  Marge  Piercy 


There  is  no  difference  betweeti  being  raped 
and  being  pushed  down  a  flight  of  cement  steps 
except  that  the  wounds  also  bleed  inside. 

There  is  no  difference  between  being  raped 

and  being  nin  over  by  a  truck 

except  that  afterward  men  ask  if  you  enjoyed  it. 

There  is  no  difference  between  being  raped 
and  being  bit  on  the  ankle  by  a  rattlesnake 
except  that  people  ask  if  your  skirt  was  short 
and  why  you  were  out  alone  anyhow. 

There  is  no  difference  between  being  raped 
and  going  head  first  through  a  windshield 
except  that  afterward  you  are  afraid 
not  of  cars 
but  half  the  human  race. 

The  rapist  is  your  boyfriend's  brother. 
He  sits  beside  you  in  the  movies  eating  popcorn. 
Rape  fattens  on  the  fantasies  of  the  normal  male 
like  a  maggot  in  garbage. 

Fear  of  rape  is  a  cold  wind  blowing 
all  of  the  time  on  a  woman's  hunched  back. 
Never  to  stroll  alone  on  a  sand  road  through  pine 

woods, 
never  to  climb  a  trail  across  a  bald 
without  that  aluminum  in  the  mouth 
when  I  see  a  man  climbing  toward  me. 


Never  to  open  the  door  to  a  knock 
without  that  razor  just  grazing  the  throat. 
The  fear  of  the  dark  side  of  hedges, 
the  backseat  of  the  car,  the  empty  house 
rattling  keys  like  a  snake's  warning. 
The  fear  of  the  smiling  man 
in  whose  pocket  is  a  knife. 
The  fear  of  the  serious  man 
in  whose  fist  is  locked  hatred. 

All  it  takes  to  cast  a  rapist  to  be  able  to  see  your 

body 

as  a  jackhammer,  as  blowtorch,  as  adding-machine- 

gun. 

All  it  takes  is  hating  that  body 

your  own,  your  self,  your  muscle  that  softens  to 

flab. 

All  it  takes  is  to  push  what  you  hate, 

what  you  fear  onto  the  soft  alien  flesh. 

To  bucket  out  invincible  as  a  tank 

armored  with  treads  without  senses 

to  possess  and  punish  in  one  act, 

to  rip  up  pleasure  to  murder  those  who  dare 

live  in  the  leafy  flesh  open  to  love. 


^>0q^>000000'P000O0P000000000^« 


THE  PRESIDENT-REJECT  and  THE  LAST  LADY 

A  Long  Poem 

by 
Andrew  Salkey 

Conduct  your  blooming  in  the  noise  and  whip  of  the  whirl- 
wind. 


Gwendolyn  Brooks 


from  Part  4  of  "The  Second 
Sermon  on  the  Warpland",  in 
In  the  Mecca 


To  forever  blot  our  slavery  is  the  only 
possible  compensation  for  this 
merciless  war .  .  . 

Adrienne  Rich  from  "Culture  and  Anarchy", 

in  A  Wild  Patience  Has  Taken 
Me  This  Far:  Poems  1978  - 
1981. 


The  powerful  lictors  of  policy  floss  sat  down 

on  the  high  mound  outside  the  city  limits, 

and  as  the  wiser  wounded, 

they  contemplated  and  spoke  about 

the  freedeom  they  had  earned 

from  the  prolonged  decade  of  garish  self-assertion, 

the  dramatized  lunges  into  sudden,  new  habits 

of  seeing  and  revelation  and  bankruptcy, 

all  the  quick  transformations 

into  quirky  styles  and  presentations, 

all  the  careless  emblems  that  pretended 

to  be  substantial,  on-going  realities  of  mind-play, 

and  they  knew  that  empty  symbols 

and  smooth  surfaces  had  been  their  way. 


II 


Lictors  everywhere  did  the  same. 

They  careened  over  the  past,  lickety-split , 

while  the  electors  humdnimmed  their  routines 

into  passive  rituals  and  angular  driftwood, 

a  vote  for  ice  cream,  here, 

another  for  false  security ,  there, 

every  obedient  act  a  blind  turn. 


Ill 


The  President's  radio  voice,  disembodied 
but  for  fidgety  phlegm,  oozed  post-prandial  place- 
bos, 
squishy  silly  billies  of  quips  and  anecdotes, 


right  across  the  New  World, 

and  brazenly  declared  that  although  Aeschylus 

is  no  friend  of  his, 

his  presidency  is  beginning  to  know 

the  pain  that  never  sleeps. 

At  that  moment,  he  bagan  to  gauge 

the  slurp  of  letters  he  would  receive; 

but  little  did  he  know 

that  dead  air  had  snatched  his  declaration, 

and  stubbed  out  the  sympathy 

which  the  state  of  his  office  had  hankered  after. 

IV 

The  President's  wife  ricked,  and  then  rolled,  nifti- 

ly, 

with  the  jagged  criticism  that  darted  her  appear- 
ances 

on   the  balcony;  women   threw  all  the  accurate 
needles. 

She  kept  on  defending  her  husband's  true  policy 
floss, 

everywhere,  in  every  cordon  sanitaire, 

made  available  to  her  rickety  endeavour, 

but  with  such  dangle  and  hauteur, 

so  much  so  that  her  inepitude  of  floss 

appeared  like  rectitude  of  thought  made  flesh. 

She  was  a  splendid  partner  in  grim  times, 

a  wife  and  a  half,  a  naiional  treasure. 


And  yet,  the  nation  was  going  to  the  dogs  of  war, 
and  even  they  were  reluctant  to  go; 
against  their  rabid  instincts  for  patriotic  sky-diving, 
they  dissembled  like  bad-tempered  angels. 
Quite  openly,  some  claimed  desuetude; 
the  efflorenscence  of  technics  and  covert  contrap- 
tions 
had  cut  the  old  personal  commitment  to  the  quick; 
others  professed  their  disclination  to  slice 
their  way  into  lives  and  cultures  not  their  own. 
What's  cultural  penetration,  anyway? 
Before  the  late,  late  September  presence 
of  the  President  and  his  wife, 
the  tactical  planner  replied: 
"Our  flying  representatives  of  leaping  lucre 
and  the  way  they  inspired, 
with  their  gross  PX  example, 
the  wayward  Cargo  cults, 
cuasing  the  new  consumers 
to  breathe  out  ramshackle  runways, 
not  so  innocent  simulacra. 


and  wait  at  sunset, 
believing  their  ancestors  will  return 
with  divine,  prettily  labelled  cartons, 
so  subversive  of  social  security  and  sovereignty.  " 
Is  that  really  all?  No  damage  done! 
The  tactical  planner,  a  pleasant,  pampered  person 
of  ivy  personality  and  language  on  the  rampage, 
spoke  candidly  of  the  far-flung  goodness  of  Em- 
pire, 
just  how  it  civilizes  the  unthinking  and  sinful, 
how  it  equips  the  disabled  with  ballooning  oppor- 
tunities, 
how  it  upends  the  dialy  void,  effortlessly,  ' 

and  produces  an  upside-down  cake  for  all 
at  the  bottom  line  of  lean  and  bone. 

VI 

And  then  the  talk  turned  to  stirred  leaves. 
The  opposition  reminded  thepalace  of  gloom 
that  every  new  liberation  carries  it  political  yoke, 
partly  made  oftmtive,  dead  wood, 
partly  of  cynical,  alien  joinery: 
Tanzania  calls  her  Zanzibar; 
Cuba  calls  hers  Guantanamo; 
no  journey  is  for  ever  and  a  day. 


VII 


The  President,   who   had  always  disliked  stirred 

leaves, 
especially  when  the  swirl  festoons  the  lull  of  dry 

backyards 
where  profitable  stability  depends  on  airlessness 

and  stasis, 
fixed  his  frown  and  pretended  to  listen  to  the  re- 
port 

of  the  meddlesome  Archbishop's  dismemberment: 
"He  died  talking  garrisons  and  guards 
and  interminable  injustices, 
as   his  lopped  head  shattered  the  wheatsheaf  of 

faith. " 
Not  far  from  the  Cathedral  steps, 
not  far  from  the  dead  sermon, 
herded  villagers,    their  thumbs  tied  behind  their 

backs, 
had  acid  thrown  in  their  faces. 
The  President  resented  the  procession  of  blood 
on  his  front  doorstep;  his,  as  he  often  stressed, 
was  certainly  a  Christian  sovereign  power, 
a  constantly  blessed  promenade  of  the  possible. 
He  resented,  too,  that  he  had  half  heard  the  report, 
even  though  he  had  devised  a  deaf  ear,  at  the  start. 
Such  an  invasion  of  presidential  privacy 


was  yet  another  banana  cross  he  was  forces  to 
shoulder, 
without  public  pity  or  religious  rapture. 

VIII 

It's  true  that  the  President  and  his  wife 

and  all  the  pre-empted  women  and  men, 

cabinet  close  enough 

for  their  tetchy  smiles  and  corporate  scowls 

to  seem  to  be  triumphs  of  cloning, 

had  the  blunders  of  bronco  inflation  and  unem- 
ployment 

and  the  drop  in  income  -  and  sales  -  taxes 

nagging  the  brink  of  the  corning  budget;  true. 

Nevertheless,  the  President  thought  about  distant 
Paraguay; 

the  flat-out  dissidence  of  a  recent  article  rankled 

but  beefed  up  his  jolted  resolve; 

he  would  stick  to  the  imperial  bargain  he  had 
made. 

Still,  the  article  attacked  the  stillness  of  his  storm: 

"Paraguay,  Paraguay,  galanty  show, 

that  reversible  one-man  plan 

for  still  hopeful  German  guests; 

that  shuttered,  down-hill  house, 

battened  with  fylfot-for-luck 

whose  terrible  patterns  no  longer 

fill  the  foot  of  the  window-blocks 

with  master  race  lies  and  fungus; 

that  cardboard  house  on  the  rocks.  " 

IX 

Ex  Africa  semper  aliguid  no  vi. 
No,  not  that,  the  President  shouted. 
Pliny,  the  Ninny,  had  got  to  him, 
presidential  stillness  and  all. 


X 


Village  voices  sounded  so  global,  now, 

each  hoarse  proclamation,  each  threat, 

becoming  denser  and  denser,  every  day, 

upsetting  the  President's  wife, 

and  causing  her  freshets  of  pain. 

Hers  was  a  thoroughgoing  admiration  for  the  cour- 
age 

of  the  poor  throughout  the  wretched  southern 
cone; 

she  knew  they  had  to  be  euchred,  regularly, 

for  their  own  good  and  hers; 

but  that  they  should  dare  think  of  euchring  her 
world. 


in  return,  quite  flummozed  her  patronage  and 
poise. 

Lyrical  badinage  sprouted  in  samizdat;  it  connect- 
ed; 

there  was  no  point  in  double  deep  concealment: 

"Once,  there  was  this  singer 

who  married  this  dancer 

and  they  both  took  the  country 

for  a  long  song  and  dance.  " 

Another  reflected,  with  proletarian  disdain, 

the  popular  rejection  of  royalty  and  subjugation: 

"King,  never! 

Queen,  never! 

Subjects  as  objects,  no,  no,  no! 

Monarchy  belongs,  elsewhere. 

Monarchy  belongs,  elsewhere. 

Yet  another  uttered  this  detonation  of  Attic  wit 

and  steely  decsiveness: 

"Body,  nind,  heart  and  soul, 

bury  the  tyrant  in  a  hole!" 


XI 


in  profile,  their  group  countenance  portrayed  clip- 
ped will 
and  slouch  towards  tomorrow;  in  the  balcony  light, 
it  was  a  frieze  f  give-over  and  sag 
in  honour  of  the  bombardment  the  tyranny 

thought  impossible. 
Empire  had  been  betrayed;  puffed-up  emptiness 

lingered, 
hovering  above  the  rhetorical  architecture, 
above  the  stuffed  eagles,   trifles  for  featured  dis- 
plays 
in  flea-market  sales  on  Saturdays  and  Sundays 
in  the  months  ahead.  But  just  how  was  the  breach 

made 
in  the  thraldom  of  the  heartland's  sprawl? 
Surely,  not  by  bhand  or  betel  on  the  streets! 
No!  Mere  pleasure  hauled  nothing  down! 
The  betrayal  was  capital.  It  was  by  trickle, 
then  flood,  and  it  washed  away  the  glitter 
of  the  stranglehold,  and  drenched  the  pomp 
in  slump  and  stagnant  wishful  thinking. 
The  palace  lights  dimmed.  Belie f-in-boom  oozed. 


Spiky  cracks  sizzled  all  over  the  palace  walls. 

Critical  hinges  creaked  loose.  Vaults  disgorded  the 
wealth 

of  their  classified  histories.  Edifice  changed  its 
name. 

Governance  glared  just  below  the  tops  of  confer- 
ence tables 

and  blinked,  as  the  hush  of  twilight  covered  the 
lawns. 

The  last  to  squirt  form  listless  to  dead 

were  the  dountains  whose  arcs  of  spume 

once  signalled  spectacular  hubris. 

The  deflation  of  floss  seemed  abjectly  complete. 

The  minds  outside  the  city  limits,  the  wiser 
wounded, 

had  not  escaped  the  rampant  devaluation. 

Tumescent  hucksterism  limped  back  to  the  provin- 
ces. 

All  the  national  symbols  bunched  and  dropped 

witha  brassy  bangarang,  no  more  stars, 

no  more  thunderbolts,  no  more  outstretched 
wings. 


XII 


The  powerful  lictors,  bearing  appropriate  fasces 
far  higher  than  the  occasion  warranted, 
stared   towards   the  sad,   over-dressed  President's 
wife, 
then  towards  the  prune-faces  President; 


XIII 

The  President   had  been   unaccustomed  to  post- 
scripts, 
preferring  paralysis  to  sophisticated  apologies, 
but  his  wife  well  knew  he  had  to  face  the  New 

World, 
debacle  in  hand,  and  tell  the  vile  tale 
for  all  it  was  worth,  just  in  case  bounce  back. 
Empire-repair,  new  fountains  and  capital  times 
were  possible,  in  the  offing,  click,  click,  click. 
The  President  stumbled.  The  New  World  waited. 


XIV 

Brought  to  its  knocking  knees,  half  wry  genuflex- 
ion, 

half  bodily  collapse,  the  gutted  order  couldn  't  eas- 
ily field 

convincing  excuses  or  support  torment-soothing 
extravagances; 

words,  for  both  the  President  and  his  wife, 

were  seldom  ever  as  accomplished  as  actions. 

Now,  off  the  active  list,  events  subsided  into  his- 
tory, 

and  fulminations  of  memory  were  all  too  available. 


8 


XV 


The  President  and  his  wife,  with  their  dislodged 
cabal, 

were  averse  both  to  discourse  and  contrition:  sil- 
ence, 

icy  obduracy  and  private  wait-and-see  were  the 
masks 

their  crumbled  power  required  and  received,  close- 
ly. 

Strange,  but  their  new  quiet  resembled  the  solitude 

of  the  enslaved  on  whom  they  had  built  Empire 
and  secured  it. 

Of  course,  irony  of  that  bite  had  no  resonance  for 
the  President; 

he  stood  beside  his  wife  and  glowered  at  the  lavish 
sumet. 


XVI 

And  the  New  Wrold  waited.  Hardly  any  woman, 

there, 
would  be  thwarted  by  elitist  explanations; 
hardly  any  man,  favoured  with  middling  nous, 
would  be  fobbed  off  by  mortgaged  crop-over  or 

guff 

The  break  was  clean,  down  to  the  marrow  cord. 
And  most  of  those  who  were  standing  in  front  of 

the  palace, 
late  that  afternoon,  well  understood  they  had  long 

known 
that  empty  symbols  and  smooth  surfaces  ahd  been 

Empire's  way, 
ist  glossy  track,  the  press  of  policy  floss, 
polity  persiflage,  and  slavery  by  another  name. 


GRANDMA  PICKS  OUT  HYMNS 

on  the  family  room  piano 
cold  keys  gleam  white 
against  polished  mahogany 
like  grandma's  teeth 
against  her  skin 
rich  and  warm 
as  plowed  earth 

an  apologetic  cough 

a  few  do-re-mis 

Grandma,  president 

of  the  Enterprise,  Alabama 

Sacred  Harp  Music  Association 

lifts  her  head  to  sing 

she  struggles 
to  reclimb  the  heights 
glides  through  lower  tones 
hers  is  an  alert  face 

at  eighty-two 

she  sings  about 

being  called  nigger 

by  a  five-year  old 

how  she  cooked  and  cleaned 

for  his  folks 

in  Hoover's  time 

was  paid  in  old  clothes 

and  baby  chicks 

old  clothes 

and  pats  on  the  back 

"Lee  Aria,  you  shore  can  bake  cakes" 

"Lee,  sing  us  a  song" 

"Lee,  your  baby  girl  shore  is  pretty,  who've 

you  been  steppin'  out  with  Lee, 

she  can't  be  Tom's,  skin's  too  light 

hair's  too  red" 

her  songs  have  been  recorded 

by  the  Smithsonian 

taken  just  like 

her  recipe  for  lemon  cheesecake 

recorded  for  others  to  copy 

to  be  stamped  American 


THE  LIFE  OF  LINCOLN  WEST 


Gwendolyn  Brooks 


Ugliest  little  boy 

that  everyone  ever  saw. 

That  is  what  everyone  said. 

Even  to  his  mother  it  was  apparent— 
when  the  blue-aproned  nurse  came  into  the 
northeast  end  of  the  maternity  ward 
bearing  his  squeals  and  plump  bottom 
looped  up  in  a  scant  receiving  blanket, 
bending,  to  pass  the  bundle  carefully 
into  the  waiting  mother-hands— that  this 
was  no  cute  little  ugliness,  no  sly  baby  wayward- 
ness 
that  was  going  to  inch  away 
as  would  baby  fat,  baby  curl,  and 
baby  spot-rash.  The  pendulous  lip,  the 
branching  ears,  they  eyes  so  wide  a?id  wild, 
the  vague  unvibrant  brown  of  the  skin, 
and,  most  disturbing,  the  great  head. 
These  components  of  That  Look  bespoke 
the  sure  fibre.  The  deep  grain 

His  father  could  not  bear  the  siglit  of  him. 
His  mother  high-piled  her  pretty  dyed  hair  and 
put  him  among  her  hairpins  and  sweethearts, 
dance  slippers,  torn  paper  roses. 
He  was  not  less  than  these, 
he  was  not  more. 

As  the  little  Lincoln  grew, 
uglily  upward  and  out,  he  began 
to  understand  that  something  was 
wrong.  His  little  ways  of  trying 
to  please  his  father,  the  bringing 
of  matches,  the  jumping  aside  at 
warning  sound  of  oh-so-large  and 
rushing  stride,  the  smile,  that  gave 
and  gave  and  gave  —  Unsuccessful! 

Even  Christmases  and  Easters  were  spoiled. 

He  would  be  sitting  at  the 

family  feasting  table,  really 

delighting  in  the  displays  of  mashed  potatoes 

and  the  rich  golden 

fat-crust  of  the  man  or  the  festive 

fowl,  when  he  would  look  up  and  find 

somebody  feeding  indignant  about  him. 


What  a  pity  what  a  pity.  No  love 
for  one  so  loving.  The  little  Lincoln 
loved  Everybody.  Ants.  The  changing 
caterpillar  His  much-missing  mother. 
His  kindergarten  teacher. 

His  kindergarten  teacher— whose 

concern  for  him  was  composed  of  one 

part  sympathy  and  two  parts  repulsion. 

The  others  ran  up  with  their  little  drawings. 

He  ran  up  with  his. 

She 

tried  to  be  as  pleasant  with  him  ai 

with  others,  but  it  was  difficult. 

For  she  was  all  pretty!  all  daintiness, 
all  tiny  vanilla,  with  blue  eyes  and' fluffy 
sun-hair  One  afternoon  she 
saw  him  in  the  hall  looking  bleak  against 
the  wall.  It  was  strange  because  the 
bell  had  long  since  rung  and  no  other 
child  was  in  sight.  Pitty  flooded  her. 
She  buttoned  her  gloves  and  suggested 
cheerfully  that  she  walk  him  home.  She 
started  out  bravely,  holding  him  by  the 
hand.  But  she  had  not  walked  far  before 
she  regretted  it.  The  little  monkey. 
Must  everyone  look?  And  clutching  her 
hand  like  that .  .  .  Literally  pinching 
it .  .  . 

At  seven,  the  little  Lincoln  loved 
the  brother  and  sister  who 
moved  next  door.  Handsome.  Well- 
dressed.  Charitable,  often,  to  him.  They 
enjoyed  him  because  he  was 
resourceful,  made  up 
games,  told  stories.  But  when 
their  More  Acceptable  friends  came  they  turned 
their  handsome  backs  on  him.  He 
hated  himself  for  his  feeling 
of  well-being  when  with  them  despite— 
Everything. 

He  spent  much  time  looking  at  himself 
in  mirrors.  What  could  be  done? 
But  there  was  no 
shrinking  his  head.  There  was  no 
binding  his  ears. 


10 


Jazz:  Will  it  Survive? 


A.    Comment  on  the  State  of  the 
Great  A^merican  A.rt 

by  Playthell  Benjamin 


THE  GENRE  OF  MUSICAL  expression 
popularly  known  as  jazz  is  a  modem 
complex  form  of  instrumental  music 
based  in  the  blues  idiom  and  created 
by  African-American  artists.  In  spite  of 
the  late  Marshall  McCluhan's  contention 
that  the  commercial  is  an  indigenous 
American  art  form,  or  the  rather  extra- 
vagant claims  made  for  abstract  expres- 
sionist painting,  jazz  is  without  ques- 
tion, the  great  American  contribution 
to  fine  art.  Polemics  to  the  contrary 
not-withstanding,  no  other  art  form 
embodies  so  many  of  the  best  ideals 
and  characteristcs  to  which  American 
civilization  aspires.  Jazz  is  democra- 
tic, values  individual  freedom,  promotes 
innovation,  and  reflects  the  complex 
rhythms  of  a  machine  age  milieu.  While 
these  rather  pedestrian  observations 
may  escape  the  attention  of  the  average 
American,  they  should  be  all  too  ob- 
vious to  our  cultural  commentators 
and  musical  critics.  But  alas,  there  is 
none  so  blind  as  he  who  will  not  see! 

Actually,  the  failure  to  award  jazz 
its  proper  status  in  American  culture 
reflects  much  more  than  a  failure  of 
aesthetic  assessment.  Rather,  it  symbo- 
lizes a  much  deeper  cultural  quandray: 
the  continuing  American  identity  crisis. 
This  crisis  is  buttressed  by  the  intellec- 
tual enslavement  of  the  white  cultural 
commissars,  to  a  doctrine  Afro-Ameri- 
can critic  and  cultural  historian,  Albert 
Murray,  has  properly  called  "the  folk- 
lore of  white  supremacy."  This  bogus 
pseudo  intellectual  doctrine  seeks  to 
deny  the  influence   of  black   folk  on 


American  culture  in  spite  of  the  well 
known  fact  that  Africans  were  present 
before  the  arrival  of  the  Mayflower  and 
have  participated  in  the  making  of 
America  ever  since.  Failure  to  take  these 
facts  into  account  has  unnecessarily 
prolonged  the  national  identity  crisis, 
and  contributed  to  the  acute  cultural 
schizophrenia  so  evident  in  American 
society. 

The  essentially  schizoid  nature  of  the 
national  character  is  due  to  several 
fundamental  misconceptions  about  the 
nature  of  American  culture  on  the  part 
of  the  American  cultural  establishment. 
Epistemologically  speaking,  one  could 
argue  that  they  hold  a  fictitious  view 
of  American  social  reality.  Thus,  they 
continue  to  engage  in  the  sort  of  wishful 
thinking  that  allows  them  to  perceive 
American  culture  as  white,  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  Protestant,  with  some 
Jewish  injections  here  and  there.  Those 
who  subscirbe  to  this  theory  of 
American  culture  confuse  the  WASPs 
ability  to  dominate  the  political,  miliary 
and  economic  institutions  with  their 
capacity  to  control  cultural  evolution. 
The  process  of  cultural  interaction 
and  fusion  inherent  in  the  symbiotic 
relationship  of  several  antagonistic  cul- 
tures occupying  the  same  geographical 
territory  effects  both  the  powerful 
and  the  powerless  in  often  unpredic- 
table ways. 

Addressing  this  question  in  his  collec- 
tion of  erudite  treatises  on  American 
culture.  The  Omni  Americans,  Albert 
Murray   has   written,  "There  is,  to  be 


sure,  such  a  thing  as  the  destruction  of 
specific  cultural  configurations  by  bar- 
barians and  vandals.  But  even  so,  time 
and  again,  history  reveals  examples  of 
barbarian  conquerors  becoming  modi- 
fied and  sometimes  even  dominated  by 
key  elements  of  the  culutre  of  the  very 
same  people  they  have  suppressed  poli- 
tically and  economically.  In  other 
words,  cultural  continuity  seems  to  be 
a  matter  of  competition  and  endurance 
in  which  the  fittest  elements  survive 
regardless  of  the  social  status  of  those 
who  evolved  them."  He  then  goes  on  to 
cite  an  example  from  the  African  ex- 
perience in  America,  "So,  for  example, 
the  traditional  African  disposition  to  re- 
fine all  movement  into  dance-like 
elegance  survived  in  the  United  States 
as  work  rhythms  (and  playful  syncopa- 
tion) in  spite  of  the  fact  that  African 
rituals  were  prohibited  and  the  cere- 
monial drums  were  taken  away." 

One  quite  striking  example  of  a 
conquering  people  being  culturally  con- 
verted by  a  vanquished  foe  can  be  found 
in  the  Mongol  conquest  of  China. 
Though  Genghis  Khan  conquered  China, 
Kubia  Khan  was  very  much  Chinese  in 
the  span  of  a  generation.  Likewise,  the 
influence  of  Afro-Americans  on  the  gen- 
eral culture  is  widespread  and  profound. 
The  presence  of  black  folk  in  this 
country  has  influenced  the  way  every- 
body else  walks,  talks,  dresses,  dances, 
jokes,  cooks  and  composes  and  plays 
music.  The  black  presence  has  also  af- 
fected the  literary  concerns  of  some  of 
white  America's  most  important  novel- 


11 


ists,  from  Herman  Melville  and  Mark 
Twian  to  William  Faulkner  and  E.I. 
Doctorow.  On  more  than  one  occasion 
it  supplied  the  materials  for  America's 
most  celebrated  playwright,  Eugene 
O'Neil.  And  the  American  musical  thea- 
ter has  long  been  in  love  with  Afro- 
American  music  and  dance,  albeit  in 
white  face.  In  fact,  one  could  argue  that 
the  major  theme  in  the  history  of 
American  show  business  is  the  wholesale 
expropriation  of  black  cultural  ingre- 
dients by  white  performers  who  then 
went  on  to  fame  and  fortune. 

The  list  of  white  performers  who 
built  artistic  careers  by  plagiarizing 
black  material  is  quite  long.  It  contains 
the  names  of  some  of  the  most  illus- 
trious of  white  America's  pantheon  of 
show  business  immortals.  For  example, 
a  cursory  inspection  would  reveal  such 
names  as:  Al  Jolson,  Eddie  Cantor, 
Vernon  and  Irene  Castle,  Paul  White- 
man,  Benny  Goodman,  Gene  Kelly, 
Blood,  Sweat,  and  Tears,  the  Beatles, 
the  Bee  Gees,  and  Elvis  Presley.  It  might 
also  be  added  that  John  Travolta  ascen- 
ded to  the  status  of  superstar  by  virtue 
of  his  rather  mediocre  imitation  of 
Afro-American  dance  styles.  This  whole- 
sale pilage  of  black  America's  cultural 
storehouse  has  proceeded  at  full  speed 
for  wejl  over  a  century  and  a  half.  To- 
day it  continues  unabated  and  there's 
no  end  in  sight.  To  add  insult  to  injury, 
the  typical  response  of  white  America's 
cultural  arbiters  is  to  ignore  or  deny  the 
existence  of  this  phenomenon.  And  the 
odd  men  out  in  this  curious  game,  the 
Afro- American  artist,  whose  gifts  have 
enriched  everyone  else,  remains  a  strug- 
gling and  ignored  figure  on  the  outer 
fringes  of  America's  vast,  cultural  in- 
dustry. 

It  was  this  state  of  affairs  that  led  the 
great  writers,  dancers  and  comedians, 
George  Walker  and  Bert  Williams,  to 
name  their  orginal  act,  "Two  Real 
Coons".  When  they  first  got  together 
in  San  Francisco  in  1894,  there  were  so 
many  white  acts  in  blackface,  they  felt 
the  need  to  advertise  the  fact  that  they 
were  the  real  deal.  The  most  imitated 
American  composer  at  the  turn  of  the 
century,  Scott  Joplin,  was  driven  to 
insantity  and  an  early  grave  because  of 
the  anguish  and  stress  of  watching  white 
composers  grow  rich  from  his  ideas, 
while  he  remained  in  poverty.  This  fact 
was  conveniently  overlooked  when  he 
was  posthumously  awarded  the  Pulitzer 


Prixe  during  the  Scott  Joplin  craxe  a 
few  years  ago.  Indeed,  one  could  argue 
that  the  reason  Joplin  received  this 
belated  acclaim  is  because  of  Marivn 
Hamlish's  decision  to  use  his  music  as 
the  basis  of  the  soundtrack  for  the  pop- 
ular film,  "The  Sting".  The  great  Afro- 
American  writer,  Langston  Hughes,  gave 
th  poetic  expression  to  this  condition 
in  this  poignant  lament,  "You've  taken 
my  blues  and  gone." 

Of  course  this  sort  of  super  exploit- 
ation of  the  black  artist  is  possible  be- 
cause of  the  subordinate  status  of 
African-Americans  as  a  group.  The  con- 
centration of  black  Americans  at  the 
lower  stratum  of  the  socio  economic 
order,  is  a  direct  function  of  the  hisotry 
of  race  and  class  oppression  in  American 
civilization.  In  a  competitive  society, 
where  culture  and  commerce  are  strange 
bedfellows,  each  ethnic  group  vies  to 
market  its  cultural  products  and  reap 
the  rewards.  Cultural  historian  and 
social  critic,  Harold  Cruse,  has  written, 
"Hence  historically,  there  has  been  on 
the  cultural  front  in  America,  a  tense 
ideological  war  for  ethnic  identity  and 
ascendancy.  This  competititon  has 
taken  on  strange  and  unique  patterns. 
Often  it  is  between  WASPs  and  Jews, 
but  more  often  than  not,  it  is  a  colla- 
boration carried  out  through  the  owner- 
ship and  management  of  the  cultural 
apparatus." 

If  we  conceptualize  the  cultural 
establishment  as  that  collection  of  per- 
sons who  own  and  control  the  appara- 
tus that  molds  mass  opinion,  we  can 
better  appreciate  the  forces  poised 
against  the  the  survival  of  jazz  as  a  via- 
ble art  form.  The  cultural  apparatus 
is  comprised  of  the  school  system  on  all 
levels,  theaters,  cinemas,  concert  halls, 
radio  and  television  broadcast  outlets, 
publishing  companies,  recording  com- 
panies, professional  journals,  popular 
magazines  and  newspapers.  The  elite 
group  that  controls  this  apparatus, 
possesses  the  power  to  determine  public 
perceptions  and  manipulate  mass  taste 
on  a  scale  unprecedented  in  history. 
One  observer  of  the  contemporary 
American  scene  has  suggested  that  only 
intellectuals  seriously  resort  to  books 
for  information  about  social  reality.  If 
this  suggestion  proves  to  be  true,  and  I 
have  witnessed  nothing  to  convince  me 
otherwise,  then  we  are  living  in  a  time 
when  most  people  form  their  concep- 
tion of  reality  from  exposure  to  mass 


society,  an  epoch  when  the  average 
citizen  has  been  reduced  to  what 
sociolgist  C.  Wright  Mills  called  "Cheer- 
ful robots". 

In  one  of  the  more  imaginative  and 
relevant  sociological  works  of  the  last 
thirty  years.  The  Power  Elite,  Mills 
describes  type  of  communication  is  the 
formal  media,  and  the  public  becomes 
mere  media  markets.  In  this  view,  the 
public  is  merely  the  collectivity  of 
individuals  each  rather  passively  ex- 
posed to  the  mass  media  and  rather 
helplessly  opened  up  to  the  suggestions 
and  manipulations  that  flow  from  these 
media."  The  central  question  for  us, 
then,  is:  What. is  the  image  of  jazz  that 
emerges  from  the  mass  media?  Before 
we  address  this  quesiton  directly,  per- 
haps it  would  be  helpful  to  appreciate 
the  fact  that  in  capitalist  societies  the 
mass  media  is  a  business.  It  is  therefore 
characterized  by  the  two  factors  com- 
mon to  all  business  enterprises;  it  is 
privately    owned    and    exists    for    the 


enrichment  of  those  who  own  it. 

The  business  of  commerical  broad- 
casting is  the  selling  of  advertising  time, 
mainly  to  corporate  sponsors.  And  the 
business  of  newspapers  and  magazines 
is  the  selling  of  space  to  the  same 
basic  corporate  clientele.  Since  com- 
petition is  a  basic  feature  of  the  capital- 
ist mode  of  economic  organization, 
there  is  always  a  mad  scramble  among 
owners  of  media  outlets  for  the  limited 
supply  of  advertising  dollars.  The  princi- 
pal concern  of  media  executives  is  in- 
creasing the  bottom  line;  this  insures 
that  cultural  values  will  be  subordinated 
to  commerical  values,  and  finance  will 
triumph  over  art.  However,  the  commer- 
cial imperatives  of  capitalism  represents 
a  danger  to  all  serious  artists,  whose 
artistic  existence  depends  upon  success- 


12 


fully    confronting    the    imperatives    of 
capitalism  and  racism. 

Once  the  nature  of  the  mass  media  is 
understood,  the  character  of  jazz  pre- 
sentation or  lack  of  it,  is  easier  to 
comprehend.  Let  us  consider  first  the 
most  powerful  segment  of  the  meida, 
television.  Prime  time  television  is 
almost  completely  devoted  to  the 
superficial  and  the  banal.  Therefore, 
even  those  art  forms  that  are  readily 
acknowledged  as  "classical",  are  seldom 
represented.  For  instance,  there  are  no 
regular  network  programs  featuring 
ballet,  opera,  or  symphonic  music.  But 
compared  to  authentic  Black  jazz  they 
are  well  represented  indeed.  This  is 
particularly  true  of  public  television, 
which  has  become  a  virtual  lyceum  for 
the  narcissistic  glorification  of  Euro- 
American  culture,  with  special  emphasis 
on  things  European.  Here,  jazz  does  get 
an  occasional  hearing,  but  usually 
diviorced  from  its  African -American 
antecendents. 

One  is  most  likely  to  see  white 
musicans,  like  Dave  Brueck  and  Sons, 
alto  saxophonist,  Phill  Woods,  who 
personally  owns  the  great  Charlie  Par- 
ker's saxophone,  baritone  saxophonist, 
Gerry  Mulligan,  or  drummer,  Louis 
Belson  and  Buddy  Rich  presented  as  the 
true  purveyors  of  the  jazz  tradition  on 
public  television.  In  a  recent  interview 
of  Gerry  Mulligan,  Dick  Cavett  asked 
with  a  sarcastic  grin  on  his  face,  "What 
do  you  think  of  the  claim  that  jazz  is 
a  black  man's  art?"  to  which  Mr. 
Mulligan  replied  that  he  wasn't  aware 
that  there  was  any  such  claim.  He  then 
went  on  to  talk  about  how  much  he  was 
inspired  and  tutored  by  the  Afro- 
American  saxophone  virtuoso,  Charles 
Parker.  Rarely  does  a  black  musician 
receive  an  invitation  to  discuss  the 
origin,  evolution  and  techniques  of  jazz 
artistry.  It  seems  as  though  the  Black 
jazz  artist  is  permanently  white-balled  in 
the  television  developments  in  the 
evolution  of  the  music  ala  John  Berks 
Gillespie,  Roy  Eldridge,  Max  Roach, 
Omette  Coleman,  McCoy  Tyner,  et  al. 
In  the  last  five  years  I  am  aware  of  only 
one  istance  in  which  black  musicans 
were  presented  to  perform  and  discuss 
the  art  of  jazz.  In  a  radical  departure 
from  the  norm,  Merv  Griffin  featured 
Herbie  Hancock  and  John  Faddis  in 
performance.  They  were  later  inter- 
viewed  about   various   aspects  of  jazz. 


However,  the  artist  provided  widest 
hearing  and  most  consistent  exposure 
is  the  white  drummer.  Buddy  Rich. 
Johnny  Carson,  who  claims  to  be  an 
aficionado  of  jazz  drumming  has 
literally  turned  the  show  over  to  Buddy 
Rich  on  numerous  occasions.  On  several 
of  these  occasions,  Mr.  Rich  brought  his 
entire  band  on  the  show.  Considering 
the  vast  audience  of  the  "Tonight 
Show",  Buddy  Rich  was  presented  with 
a  larger  audience  than  many  major 
black  innovaters  perform  before  over 
the  span  of  a  decade.  It  is  hardly  sur- 
prising that  most  Americans  consider 
Mr.  Rich  the  premier  jazz  drummer  of 
our  age. 

On  one  occasion,  Mr.  Rich's  pre- 
eminence was  verified  by  not  less  an 
authority  than  newsman  David 
Brinkley.  After  informing  America  that 
his  son  is  a  serious  student  of  jazz 
drumming  and  presently  studying  at  the 
distinguished  Berkley  School  of  Music 
in  Boston,  he  turned  to  Buddy  Rich  and 
stated,  "My  son  thinks  you  are  God." 
It  was  good  enough  to  make  even  the 
great  "Carsoni"  blow  his  cool.  So 
Buddy  Rich  beocmes  embedded  in  the 
public  consciousness  as  the  quintessen- 
tial jazz  percussionist  while  great  black 
innovators  like  Art  Blakely,  Max  Roach, 
Roy  Haynes,  Philly  Joe  Jones  and  Elvin 
Jones  remain  in  relative  obscurity.  Of 
course,  where  the  performing  arts  are 
concerned,  there  is  a  direct  relationship 
between  public  recognition  and  finan- 
cial reward.  It  is  no  wonder  then,  that 
many  white  musicians  have  often  be- 
come wealthy  rendering  third  rate 
imitations  of  black  originals. 


The  other  arm  of  the  broadcast  in- 
dustry, radio,  has  traditionally  offered 
a  much  greater  hearing  to  the  art  of  jazz 
and  the  Afro-American  musician.  How- 
ever, jazz  made  its  entrance  into  radio 
through  the  back  door  and  not  without 
protest.  For  in  the  early  days  of  com- 
mercial radio,  European  classical  music 
alone  was  deemed  suitable  for  the  pub- 
lic airways.  In  this  period  of  the  early 
twentieth  century,  not  only  was  most 
black  music  confined  to  special  labels 
known  as  "race  records",  but  even  the 
instrumental  music,  the  saxophone,  was 
held  in  suspicion.  However,  the  first 
jazz  recording  made  was  not  of  a 
Black  band.  In  1917,  a  group  of  South- 
em  white  musicians  with  the  audacity 
to  call  themselves  "The  Original  Dixie- 
land Jazz  Band",  issued  the  first  recor- 
ding of  the  Black  New  Orleans  style 
jazz,  commonly  referred  to  as  Dixie- 
land. Thus,  most  of  the  American  and 
European  public  first  heard  this  early 
black  style  from  white  musicians. 

This  development  set  a  pattern  in  the 
recording,  distribution  and  promotion 
of  Afro-American  musical  creations 
that  manifestly  favors  the  white  music- 
ian to  this  very  hour.  With  the  growth 
of  a  serious  jazz  audience  and  the 
development  of  FM  radio,  black  jazz 
was  widely  heard  in  these  special  media 
markets.  But  even  this  development  is 
presently  endangered.  As  a  result  of  the 
hypersensitive  attitude  of  station  man- 
agers and  programmers  to  the  arbitron 
ratings,  there  is  a  stampede  toward 
format  changes  in  radio  industry.  There 
is  perhaps  no  better  example  of  this 
phenomenon  than  the  present  state  of 


13 


jazz  radio  in  New  York  City.  For  several 
decades  now,  New  York  has  been 
regarded  by  both  musicians  and  critics 
as  the  jazz  capital  of  the  world.  Yet, 
today  there  is  not  a  single  commerical 
station  devoted  to  the  broadcasting  of 
this  musical  form. 

The  last  commercial  station  to  pro- 
gram jazz  as  its  basic  format  was 
WRVR,  but  this  station  now  programs 
country  and  western  music  exclusively. 
Listening  to  WRVR  today,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  tell  if  one  were  in  the  Big 
Apple  or  hangin'  out  in  Nashville.  But 
there  is  an  important  lesson  in  all  this. 
For  the  way  this  conversion  was  accom- 
plished demonstrates  the  cut  throat 
nature  of  the  commercial  media.  On 
the  morning  of  the  format  change,  a 
staff  meeting  was  called  by  the  station 
manager.  The  meeting  convened  at 
about  ten  thirty  and  it  was  announded 
that  the  station  was  converting  from 
jazz  to  country  and  western  program- 
ming. At  approximately  eleven  thirty, 
a  truck  pulled  up  to  the  loading  plat- 
form and  deposited  a  record  library  of 
country  music  and  then  collected  the 
jazz  library  which  was  immediately  put 
on  sale. 

The  disc  jockeys  had  not  been  in- 
formed of  these  changes  previously,  in 
order  to  prevent  them  from  informing 
the  public.  This  method  of  program 
conversion  was  designed  to  frustrate 
the  efforts  to  stop  a  change  of  format 
by  organized  listener  groups.  These 
kind  of  decision-making  practices  are 
standard  fare  in  the  corporate  world  and 
reflect  the  change  of  ownership  the 
station  had  experienced.  WRVR  was 
originally  owned  by  Riverside  Church 
and  operated  with  a  sense  of  commit- 
ment to  art  and  responsibility  to  its 
audience.  But  when  financial  difficul- 
ties forced  them  to  sell  out,  the  charac- 
ter of  the  station  changed.  When  the 
Sounderling  Corporation  assumed 
control  of  the  station's  management, 
the  programming  changed  from  a  well- 
balanced  presentation  of  traditional  jazz 
styles  to  an  over-emphasis  on  highly 
electric  jazz/rock  fusion  music. 

When  Viacom,  a  large  communica- 
tions conglomerate,  purchased  the 
station  from  Sounderling,  it  signalled 
the  death  knell  for  jazz  of  any  style. 
Capitalizing  on  the  country's  swing  to 
the  political  right  and  the  resurgence  of 
the  cowboy  mystique  that  accompanied 
it,    Viacom   is   programming  more  and 


more  country  music  over  its  stations. 
Some  critics  view  this  development  as 
part  of  a  conspiracy  to  innundate  the 
Northeastern  megalopolis  with  the  reac- 
tionary "yahoo"  values  of  the  con- 
servative Southwest,  the  so-called 
"Sunbelt".  While  there  may  be  some 
truth  in  this  allegation,  it  does  not 
square  with  the  known  facts  about 
radio  programming.  For  most  program- 
ming decisions  are  based  solely  upon 
what  the  management  believes  will 
increase  its  share  of  the  radio  audience, 
thus  raising  its  standing  in  the  arbitron 
ratings.  Like  the  Nielsen  ratings  for 
television,  the  arbitron  ratings 
determine  a  station's  attractiveness  to 
potential  advertisers  and  the  price  at 
which  they  can  sell  their  time.  And  this, 
finally,  is  the  whole  point  of  commeri- 
cial  brpadcasting. 

Decisions  about  what  kind  of  music 
a  target  audience  will  like  are  not  left 
to  the  chance  selections  of  disc  jockeys 
in  commercial  radio.  General  program 
choices  are  usually  arrived  at  on  the 
basis  of  highly  sophisticated  demo- 
graphic studies.  These  studies  present 
detailed  analysis  of  the  socio-economic 
and  ethnic  characteristics  of  the  target 
population.  Specific  choices  of 
records  for  the  playlist  to  which  all  the 
disc  jockeys  will  refer,  are  made  on  the 
basis  of  their  position  on  the  various 
charts,  i.e.,  Record  World,  Cash  Box  and 
Billboard.  Also  current  sales  at  selected 
reatil  outlets  are  considered.  Beyond 
that,  there  is  the  conventional  wisdom 
among  programmers  that  radio  listeners 
can  be  divided  into  two  basic  categories: 
passive  and  active,  with  the  ove- 
whelming  majority  being  classified  as 
passive. 

Passive  listeners  are  defined  as  per- 
sons who  do  not  wish  to  participate 
intellectually  in  a  music  experience. 
Therefore,  they  must  be  force  fed  a 
diet  of  junk  music  consisting  of  the 
simpleest  compositional  forms  and 
lyrical  content.  This  fact  explains  why 
the  airwaves  are  virtually  polluted  with 
songs  characterized  by  melodic  banality 
and  lyrical  redundancy.  The  program- 
mers seek  a  musical  product  in  which 
creativity  has  been  sacrificed  to  ex- 
pendency;  and  this,  by  definition,  ex- 
cludes the  fine  art  of  jazz.  It  is  as 
though  the  managers  of  commercial 
radio  all  agree  with  P.T.  Barnum's 
statement,  "You  can  never  go  broke 
underestimating  the  taste  of  the  Ameri- 


can public."  Fortunately,  there  is  an 
alternative  to  commercial  radio. 

Perhaps  the  best  opportunity  for 
serious  jazz  programming  is  to  be 
found  in  public  radio.  In  New  York 
City,  the  void  left  by  the  decline  of 
commercial  jazz  broadcasting  has  been 
quickly  filled  by  several  publicly 
supported  stations.  The  most  important 
of  these  statiosn  are  WBGO,  SKCR  and 
WBAI.  By  virtue  of  the  fact  that  these 
stations  are  not  constantly  fighting  for 
position  on  the  arbitron  charts,  they  are 
able  to  program  music  based  on  purely 
artistic  values.  WBAI  is  an  affiliate  of 
the  Pacific  network  which  is  wholly 
supported  by  its  listeners.  WBGO  is 
associated  with  National  Public  Radio 
and  also  solicits  funds  from  its  audience; 
and  WKCR  is  a  member  of  the  National 
Collegiate  Network.  Together  these 
stations  offer  a  wide  variety  of  music 
from  the  classic  jazz  tradition. 

Of  equal  importance  are  the 
extensive  interviews  with  the  creative 
artists  and  their  peers.  Leading  the  pack 
in  this  regard  is  WKCR,  the  Columbia 
University  station.  This  station  has 
distinguished  itself  with  productions  of 
special  profiles  of  selected  artists.  For 
instance,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
hours  straight  were  devoted  to  the 
music  of  Miles  Davis,  and  one  hundred 
and  fifty  to  the  music  of  Max  Roach. 
These  comprehensive  musical  offerings 
were  accompained  by  indepth  inter- 
views with  many  of  the  artists  appearing 
on  the  record  sessions.  The  tapes  of 
these  discussions  represent  priceless  oral 
history  archives  to  students  of  jazz 
hsitory.  WBGO,  a  station  based  in  Ne- 
wark, New  Jersey  and  broadcasting 
throughout  the  metropolitan  area, 
offers  a  full  twenty-four  hours  of  jazz 
programming,  interspersed  with  news 
and  public  affairs.  As  a  member  of  the 
National  Public  Radio  system,  this 
station  has  access  to  a  wide  variety  of 
unique  programs. 

WBAI  is  the  only  one  of  these 
stations  that  is  totally  listener  support- 
ed. And  while  the  format  is  not  exclusi- 
vely, or  even  predominantly,  devoted 
to  jazz  programming,  what  is  offered 
is  excellent.  One  program  features  the 
virtuoso  bass  violinist,  Reginald  Work- 
man, who  offers  many  insightful  com- 
mentaries on  the  music.  Judging  from 
the  facts  at  hand,  it  appears  that  the 
future  of  jazz  broadcasting  lies  in  non- 
commercial public  radio.  And  given  the 


14 


growing  hostility  of  the  Reagan  admin- 
istration toward  pubUc  funding  of  the 
arts,  public  radio  will  have  to  rely  on 
its  listeners  for  increasing  amounts  of 
financial  support.  But  this  fact  raises 
an  important  question:  is  the  jazz  audi 
ence  sufficient  to  support  a  non 
commercial  network? 

The  critical  role  of  radio  in  the  mark-^ 
eting  of  records,  largely  determines  the 
decisions  of  recording  executives  in 
regard  to  the  type  of  artist  they  are 
willing  to  sign.  The  tremendous  pressure 
on  managers  of  capitalist  corporations 
to  expand  operations  and  increase  pro- 
fits, leaves  little  opportunity  for  experi- 
mentation or  altruism.  The  result  is  a 
preference  for  the  sure  thing,  which 
explains  why  so  many  recordings  sound 
alike.  Obviously,  such  an  attitude 
is  hostile  to  the  creative  enterprise  that 
most  jazz  musicans  are  about.  One  high- 
ly-accomplished Afro-American  trump- 
eter reported  to  this  writer  that  he  was 
actually  approached  by  a  recording 
company  and  asked  if  he  could  sound 
hke  Chuck  Magione.  To  the  serious  jazz 
artist  this  is  the  ultimate  insult.  While 
this  sort  of  imitation  is  a  standard  prac- 
tice in  popular  music,  no  classical  art 
form  could  long  survive  such  an  impedi- 
ment to  orginality. 

So  long  as  the  major  record 
companies  are  run  by  executives  who 
look  upon  music  solely  as  a  product, 
we  can  expect  no  serious  changes  in  the 
present  state  of  affairs.  Many  of  these 
executives  have  no  personal  interest 
in  music  and  would  be  just  as  happy 
selling  lawn  mowers.  As  an  alternative 
to  this  situation,  some  artists  are  organ- 
izing their  own  recording  companies. 
There  have  been  both  collective  and 
individual  efforts  in  this  direction. 
Strata  East  was  perhaps  the  best 
example  of  a  collective  effort  by 
Afro-American  musicians  to  produce 
and  market  their  music,  organized  by 
trumpeter  Charles  ToUiver  and 
pianist  Stanley  Cowell,  Strata  East 
practically  reversed  the  terms  on  which 
artists  related  to  record  companies. 
Under  this  arrangement,  the  artists 
produced  their  own  records  with  com- 
plete artistic  profits  going  to  the  artist. 
It  was  an  excellent  concept  but  this 
experiment  eventually  failed  due  to 
financial  and  management  difficutlties. 

Some  individually  owned  labels  like 
Rashied  All's   "Survival"   Records  and 


Byard  Lancaster's,  "Philly  Jazz",  con- 
tinue to  exist  on  a  marginal  basis.  The 
major  problem  with  these  small  labels 
is  lack  of  proper  distribution.  In  both 
cases,  the  artists  often  sell  their  records 
on  the  sidewalks  outside  of  jazz  clubs 
and  concert  halls.  Given  the  vast  distri- 
bution networks  of  the  estalbished  re- 
cording companies,  even  the  most  opti- 
mistic view  would  not  offer  much  hope 
of  success  for  these  artists.  When  these 
realities  are  taken  into  consideration, 
one  must  question  whether  jazz  can  re- 
main a  viable  art  form  if  left  to  the  ra- 
vages of  the  commercial  market  palce. 
It  is  fairly  well  understood  that  classical 
art  forms,  because  of  their 
complexity,  do  not  generally  attract 
a  mass  audience.  Consequently,  these 
fine  art  forms  require  public  subsidies  or 
private  philanthropy  in  order  to  sur- 
vive. The  problem  is  that  America's 
cultural  establishment  has  resisted  the 
inclusion  of  jazz  in  its  definition  of 
Fine  Art. 

The  reasons  for  this  resistance  are 
at  best  spuroious  nonsense  and  at  worse 
self-serving  falsehoods  designed  to 
flatter  the  fragile  cultural  ego  of  white 
America.  For  around  the  question  of 
the  critical  assessment  of  jazz  hover 
all  the  thorny  issues  of  race  and  class 
realtions,  as  well  as  the  influence  of 
these  factors  on  the  character  of  Ameri- 
can culture.  Harold  Cruse  had  this  to 
say  on  the  matter,  "The  cultural  arts 
are  the  mirror  of  the  spiritual  condition 
of  anation,  and  the  use  of  a  nation's 


social  ingredients  in  its  art  reveals  a 
great  deal  about  how  a  nation  looks 
at  itself.  Thus,  the  way  in  which  the 
social  relations  in  the  United  States 
between  black  and  white  are  reflected 
in  the  art  forms,  represent  a  open  book 
of  the  American  psyche. 

"The  impact  of  the  Negro  presence 
on  American  art  forms  has  been  tre- 
mendous and  also  historically  condi- 
tioned; but  this  fact  the  American 
psyche  is  loath  to  admit  in  its  establi- 
shed critical  schools  of  thought.  As 
Americans,  white  people  in  America  are 
also  Westerners  and  American  white 
values  are  shaped  by  Western  cultural 
values.  America  possesses  no  critical 
standards  for  the  cultural  arts  that 
lave  not  been  derived  from  the 
European  experience.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  basic  ingredients  for  native 
(non-European)  American  originality  in 
art  forms  derive  from  American  Negroes 
who  came  to  America  from  a  non- 
Western  background.  We  need  only  to 
point  to  American  music  to  prove  the 
point." 

Of  course,  the  majority  of  America's 
cultural  elite  could  never  remove  their 
Eurocentric  blinders  long  enough  to 
take  a  candid  look  at  the  realities  of 
American  culture.  For  to  admit  the 
influence  of  Blacks  on  American  music, 


culture  that  followed.  El  Presidente 
Fidel  Castro  has  called  Cuba  and  Afro- 
Latin  society,  an  obvious  enough 
description,  but  one  never  before  ad- 
mitted on  an  official  level.  Once  the 
true  ethnic  components  of  Cuban  cul- 
ture were  acknowledged,  it  was  then 
possible  to  develop  a  cultural  policy 
which  reflected  these  realities.  Many 
Afro-Cuban  performing  artists  who  were 
previously  confined  to  dives  or  street 
comers  are  now  leading  a  dignified 
existence  with  their  creative  activities 
subsidized  by  the  government.  Under 
these  new  policies  the  indegenous  artis- 
tic traditions  of  Cuba  are  flourishing.  If 
the  small  economically  underdeveloped 
island  nation  of  Cuba  can  do  this  for 
its  artists,  we  ought  to  insist  on  nothing 
less  from  the  wealthiest  country  in  the 
world. 

In  announcing  this  decision  to  cut 
the  National  Endowment  for  the 
Arts,  President  Reagan  suggested  that 
artists  look  to  the  private  sector  for 
support.  The  problem  with  this  point 
of  view  is  that  it  leaves  fundamental 
decisions  about  cultural  matters  to 
those  with  the  most  money  to  spend 
on  philanthropic  causes.  This  will 
insure  that  the  American  people  will 
have  only  that  culture  which  the  cor- 
porate elite  deems  suitable.  For  jazz, 
this  is  an  ominous  development  because 
most  white  businessmen  either  hold  a 
racist  patrican  view  of  culture,  or  none 
at  all.  Giving  businessmen  control  of 
the  arts  is  much  like  placing  a  hawk  in 
charge  of  the  chicken  coop.  For  this  is 
the  very  group  that  is  responsible  for 
the  banalization  of  American  culture. 
Such  an  arrangement  is  certain  to 
result  in  the  people  being  offered  bread 
and  circuses  in  place  of  the  great  art 
that  serves  as  food  for  the  mind  and 
soul. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  danger  to  the 
continued  existence  of  jazz  is  the  de- 
cline of  an  Afro-American  audience. 
This  decline  reflects  the  alienation  of 
contemporary  Black  Americans  from 
the  jazz  tradition  and  poses  serious 
questions  about  both  the  future  of  jazz 
and  the  state  of  AfroAmerican  culture. 
For  most  of  its  history,  jazz  was  an  art 
performed  by  black  musicans  for  black 
audiences.  The  decline  of  this  audience 
symbolizes  a  profound  change  in  the 
collective  sensibilities  of  Black  Ameri- 
cans. For  above  all  else,  Black  Music  is  a 
pretty  accurate  sound  mirror  reflecting 


the  inner  life  of  Afro-Americans.  And 
jazz  is  the  most  sophisticated  artistic 
response  to  the  American  experience 
as  synthesized  in  the  soul  of  Black 
America.  In  the  language  of  jazz  one 
hears  the  articulation  of  a  wide  range  of 
attitudes,  ideas  and  values.  The  wit  of 
Lee  Morgan,  the  humor  of  Dizzy 
Fillespie,  the  revolutionary  thunder  of 
Max  Roach,  the  ascetic  religious  devo- 
tion of  McCoy  Tyner,  the  academic  pre- 
cison  of  Hubert  Laws,  the  abstract  ex- 
pression of  Omette  Coelman  and  the 
mystical  musings  of  John  and  Alice 
Coltrane  are  all  part  of  the  lexicon  of 
jazz. 

One  can  only  speculate  as  to  whether 
the  rejection  of  the  jazz  tradition  im- 
plies the  dulling  of  these  sensibilities, 
expecially  among  the  youth  who  are 
devoted  listeners  to  mechanically  pro- 
duced dance  msuic.  But  one  thing  is 
certain,  commercial  music  with  its  lack 
of  musical  complexity  and  monothe- 
matic  concerns,  can  never  convey  the 
subtlety  and  texture  of  human  emotions 
one  hears  in  jazz.  Furthermore,  no 
commercial  music  can  pose  the  intellec- 
tual challenge  offered  by  jazz;  and  for 
that  reason  alone,  black  youth  are  mis- 
sing out  on  an  important  part  of  their 
heritage.  The  wealth  and  celebrity 
associated  with  success  in  popular 
music  is  leading  many  young  musicians 
to  avoid  the  difficult  challenge  of  jazz 
improvisation,  and  opt  instead,  for  a 
musical  career  in  which  knowledge  of 
five  chords  is  sufficient  for  success. 
The  danger  to  the  survival  of  the  jazz 
tradition  here  is  obvious,  for  it  is  being 
subverted  at  the  source. 

It  would  seem  that  if  anyone  would 
recognize  the  value  of  jazz  and  cele- 
brate its  achievment  it  would  be  the 
black  bourgeoisie.  For  here  is  a  splen- 
did example  of  the  black  creative  intel- 
leigence  at  work.  In  jazz,  we  have  an 
artistic  discipline  which  sets  the  highest 
standards  of  excellence  and  requires 
years  of  devoted  study  to  master. 
Yet,  most  of  the  black  middle  class  re- 
mains oblivious  to  the  dimensions  of 
this  achievement.  Part  of  this  problem 
results  from  the  fact  that  many  middle 
class  blacks  have  adopted  the  material- 
istic Philistinism  of  their  white  counter- 
parts. It's  not  the  soaring  stacatto 
attacts  of  Freddie  Hubbard  that  excites 
them;  or  the  indigo  moods  of  an  EUig- 
ton  tone  poem  that  delights  them;  oh 
no,  only  a  steel  gray  Mercedes  450XL 


can  really  turn  them  on. 

Having  spent  a  lifetime  in  schools 
that  despise  and  ignore  black  cultural 
traditions,  much  of  the  black  bour- 
geoise  remains  miseducated  and  cultur- 
ally insecure,  indoctrinated  in  the  idea 
that  fine  art  music  is  synonymous 
with  the  European  classical  form,  they 
are  ambivialant  when  confronted  with 
the  finest  fruit  of  their  own  traditon; 
jazz.  In  an  essay  entitled  "Philistinism 
and  the  Black  Writer",  Imamu  Baraka 
describes  the  tremendous  struggle  they 
waged  against  the  administration  at 
Howard  University  in  order  to  produce 
a  jazz  concert.  The  Dean  of  the  Music 
School  cried  hysterically  when  it  was 
suggested  that  the  concert  be  held  in  the 
Fine  Arts  building.  It  is  almost  beyond 
belief  that  such  culturally  backwards 
ideas  could  have  prevailed  in  the  leading 
Black  University  in  the  world  as  late  as 
1957! 

The  hostile  attitude  towards  jazz 
displayed  by  many  black  academics, 
reflects  an  embarrassment  about  certain 
aspects  of  jazz  history.  In  their  zeal 
to  disprove  the  sterotypical  image  of 
black  folks  as  immoral  creatures  given 
to  licentiousness  and  debauchery,  earlier 
generations  of  these  academics  were 
quite  ambivalent  about  jazz  as  serious, 
representative,  Afro-American  art.  This 
was  due  largely  to  the  fact  that  jazz 
was  associated  with  brothels  in  its  early 
development;  bars  and  cabarets  through 
its  history,  and  some  of  the  arts  most 
gifted  innovators  were  addicted  to 
alchol  and  drugs.  But  the  fact  that 
Socrates  and  Tchaikovsky  were  homo- 
sexuals; Shakespeare  a  bi-sexual; 
Guaguin  an  irresponsible  philanderer; 
Robert  Browning  an  opium  addict;  and 
Edgar  Allen  Poe,  a  habitual  drunk  never 
brought  on  similar  rejections  of  their 
creations.  However,  such  attitudes  are 
consistent  with  the  outlook  of  coloniz- 
ed intellectuals  who  slavishly  adopt  the 
chauvinistic  views  of  their  ruling  class 
tutors. 

However,  it  would  be  misleading  to 
leave  the  reader  with  the  impression 
that  this  is  the  prevailing  attitude  of 
contemporary  Afro-American  acade- 
mics. For  there  are  many  black  scholars 
engaged  in  serious  efforts  to  define 
and  preserve  the  jazz  legacy  and  its 
antecedents,  such  scholars  as  Professors 
Oritz  Walton,  Roland  Wiggins,  Ann 
Southern,  Fred  Tillis,  David  Baker, 
J.R.     Mitchell,     Archie     Shepp,     Bob 


Cole,  Portia  Maultsby,  A.B.  Spellman, 
Albert  Murray  and  Imamu  Baraka  are 
all  making  important  contributions.  Of 
course,  there  has  long  been  a  healthy 
interest  in  jazz  on  the  part  of  black 
creative  intellectuals.  This  concern  ex- 
tends to  the  very  beginnings  of  the  jazz 
tradition.  The  turn-of-the-century  novel- 
ist and  poets,  Paul  Laurence  Dunbar 
and  James  Weldon  Johnson  were  both 
great  lovers  of  the  music  and  were  also 
fine  lyricists. 

The  meter  and  style  of  the  poetry  of 
Sterling  Brown  and  Langston  Hughes 
make  conscious  reference  to  the  blues 
tradition  and  Albert  Murray  argues  that 
Ralph  Elison's  great  novel,  "The  Invisi- 
ble Man"  is  really  an  extended  blues. 
The  wonderfully  inventive  fiction  and 
drama  of  Ishmael  Reed  and  Aisha  Rah- 
man are  both  based  on  a  jazz  motif. 
And  of  course,  many  of  the  best  con- 
temporary Afro-American  poets  are 
singing  a  jazz  song.  Carlyle  McBeth, 
Imamu  Baraka,  David  Amus  Moore, 
Camille  Yarboorogh,  Ntozake  Shange, 
Larry  Neal,  Askia  Muhammad  Toure, 
Stanley  Crough,  Sonia  Sanchez,  Yusef 
Rahman  and  Quincey  Troupe  all  con- 
struct their  work  around  a  jazz  aesthe- 
tic. It  should  also  be  pointed  out  that 
modern  Afro-American  choreographers 
such  as  Alvin  Alley,  Rod  Rogers,  Elo 
Palmare  and  Diane  Mclntyre  all  feature 
jazz  prominently  in  their  work.  But, 
alas,  all  of  this  is  of  little  consequence 
to  the  majority  of  bourgeois  blacks,  for 
they  are  equally  indifferent  to  all  forms 
of  serious  Afro- American  art. 

The  ultimate  tragedy  in  this  case  is 
that  these  attitudes  deprive  the  black 
jazz  artists  of  their  logical  patrons.  For 
one  of  the  moit  important  roles  of  the 
educated  and  affluent  classes  in  each 
ethnic  group  is  to  subsidize  the  advance- 
ment of  group  culture  by  patronizing 
their  important  artists.  The  absence  of 
any  coherent  concept  of  black  culture 
and  a  confused  sense  of  values  has 
resulted  in  an  attitude  of  indifference 
toward  the  plight  of  the  jazz  artist. 
Instead,  the  black  bourgeois  spends 
millions  of  dollars  annually  on  cosmetic 
music  that  anesthesizes  them  from 
reality.  This  is  a  sad  situation  indeed, 
for  this  group  possesses  the  resources 
to  insure  the  continuation  of  the  jazz 
tradition.  The  relative  deprivation  and 
artistic  obscurity  that  plagues  the  aver- 
age jazz  musician  is  causing  many  artists 


to  abandon  this  genre  and  opt  for 
careers  in  popular  commercial  music. 
Among  them  are  some  of  the  most 
important  virtuosos  in  jazz:  Herbie 
Hancock,  Wayne  Shorter,  George  Ben- 
son, Ramsey  Lewis,  Roy  Ayers  and 
Stanley  Turrentine  are  all  presently  lost 
to  Mickey  Mouse  music. 

The  final  nail  in  the  coffin  of  jazz 
may  well  be  the  vanishing  opportunites 
for  young  musicians  to  participate  in 
jam  sessions.  In  the  absence  of  the  kind 
of  institutional  structure  advocated  by 
Dr.  Oritz  Walton  in  his  excellent  book, 
"Music:  Black,  White  and  Blue",  these 
sessions  have  been  the  main  classrooms 
of  instruction  for  developing  musicians. 
The  centrality  of  the  jam  session  to  the 
evolution  of  jazz  artistry  is  verified 
by  the  testimony  of  a  long  line  of 
musicians.  Jelly  Roll  Morton,  Scott 
Joplin,  James  Weldon  Johnson,  Ralph 
Ellison,  Billy  Taylor,  Mezz  Mezzro,  Max 
Roach,  and  Dizzy  Gillespie  have  all 
commented  on  the  importance  of  these 
sessions  to  their  development.  Interest- 


ingly enough,  most  of  the  establish- 
ments that  hosted  these  sessions  were 
black-owned.  A  great  deal  of  the  early 
ragtime,  musical  theater,  and  large 
ensemble  styles  were  worked  out  in 
places  like  the  Old  Marshall  Hotel  on 
West  53rd  Street  and  the  Clef  Club 
Uptown.  And  one  of  the  most  exciting 
movements  in  Modem  art,  the  be-bop 
revolution,  was  largely  developed  in 
Minton's  Playhouse.  All  of  these  estab- 
lishments had  black  proprietors.  Here  is 
a  clear  cut  role  affluent  blacks  can  play; 
and  it  requires  neither  extensive  musical 
education  nor  control  of  the  music 
industry. 

In  view  of  the  many  obstacles  facing 
the  serious  jazz  artist,  the  active  support 
of  the  black  middle  class  is  critical.  If 
the  black  bourgeois  fails  to  rise  to  this 
occasion,  jazz  may  continue  to  exist  in  a 
hyphenated  form  practiced  by  whites, 
but  the  survival  of  jazz  as  a  serious 
Afro-American  art  form  is  problematic 
at  best. 


17 


is  to  recognize  a  creative  intelligence 
in  black  folks,  the  denial  of  which  is 
central  to  the  American  way  of  life. 
Even  among  the  handful  of  white 
cultural  critics  who  do  recognize  the 
artistry  of  jazz,  most  would  deny  that 
it  is  a  creation  of  Afro-Americans. 
Addressing  the  attitude  of  these  critics, 
historian  and  veteran  commentator  on 
jazz,  Frank  Kofsky  remarked,  "If  they 
are  in  the  jazz  world  proper,  they  will 
tend  to  deny  that,  whatever  else  jazz 
may  be,  it  is  first  and  formost  a  black 
art  —  an  art  created  and  nurtured  by 
black  people  in  this  country  out  of  the 
wealth  of  their  historical  experience." 

Speaking  of  the  general  attitude  of 
his  fellow  white  Americans  in  regard  to 
jazz  Kofsky  writes,  "On  the  other  hand, 
if  they  are  not  a  part  of  the  jazz  milieu, 
white  Americans  will  automatically  and 
virtually  without  exception  assume  that 
jazz  is  black  —  thought  not  an  art  —  and 
thereforre,  thought  this  may  go  unstat- 
ed, worthly  of  no  serious  treatment  or 
respect".  The  preeminent  example  of 
this  attitude  is  the  refusal  of  the  Pulitzer 
Committee  to  award  Duke  Ellington 
the  prize  for  continued  excellence  in 
American  music  in  1965.  At  the  time, 
Elligton  remarked  with  an  air  of 
sarcasm,  "Fate's  being  kind  to  me.  Fate 
doesn't  want  me  to  be  too  famous  too 
young."  If  Edward  Kennedy  Elligton, 
a  quintessential  American  musical 
genius,  could  be  rejected  in  this  fashion, 
we  can  well  imagine  how  the  Pulitzer 
Committee  and  simialar  constituted 
bodies  of  arbiters  view  the  art  he  repre- 
sented 

The   New    York    Times,    the    paper 

that  claims  to  be  the  pacesetter  in  both 
the  coverage  and  criticism  of  the  arts, 
reported  this  story  without  benefit  of 
its  professed  critical  insights.  While 
American  pundits  refuse  to  come  to 
terms  with  the  magnitude  of  Ellington's 
achievement,  many  European  critics 
have  long  celebrated  his  artistry.  Witness 
this  description  of  Duke's  music  written 
thirty-one  years  earlier  in  New  York 
Times,  1934,  by  the  distinguished 
British  music  critic  Constant  Lambert. 
"The  real  interest  of  Ellington's  records 
lies  not  so  much  in  their  color,  brilliant 
though  it  may  be,  as  in  the  amazingly 
skillful  proportions  in  which  the  color 
is  used.  I  do  not  only  mean  skillful  as 
compared  with  other  jazz  composers, 
but  as  compared  with  so-called  high- 
brow   composers.    I   know   of  nothing 


in  Ravel  so  dextrous  in  treatment  as  the 
varied  solos  in  the  middle  of  the  ebul- 
lient 'Hot  and  Bothered',  and  nothing  in 
Stravinsky  more  dynamic  that  the  final 
section.  The  combination  of  themes 
at  this  moment  is  one  of  the  most 
ingenious  pieces  of  writing  in  modern 
music."  Maestro  Ellignton's  experience 
testifies  to  the  veracity  of  the  old  adage, 
"A  prophet  is  without  honor  in  his 
own  land." 

Under  the  reign  of  the  intellectual 
neanderthals  and  defenders  of  white 
culture  mediocrity  in  the  Reagan  admin- 
istration, government  funding  to  the 
arts  in  general  will  suffer.  But  we  can 
be  certain  that  jazz  programs,  scarce 
as  they  are,  will  suffer  the  most.  If  Mr. 
Reagan  actually  carries  out  his  promise 
to  cut  the  National  Endowment  for  the 
Arts  by  half,  federal  funds  for  critical 
programs  like  the  Jazzmobile  may 
cease  to  exist.  Even  in  the  best  of  times, 
funding  for  such  programs  constituted 
a  miniscule  portion  of  the  Endowment's 
budget.  While  annual  grants  to  sym- 
phony orchestras  totaled  millions  of 
dollars,  funding  for  jazz  projects  came 
to  less  than  half  a  million  dollars  in 
1980.  Nothing  demonstrates  white 
America's  genuflection  before  the  pre- 
tensions of  European  culture  more 
than  this  fact. 

Ambivalent  about  their  national 
identity  and  unable  to  match  the 
creativity  and  originality  of  the  Afro- 
American  musical  tradition,  the  Euro- 
American  elite  lavishes  resources  on 
insittutions  that  perpetuate  European 
music,  while  the  great  American  art 
struggles  to  survive.  At  one  point  in 
American  history,  this  contempt  for  the 
creative  products  of  American  culture 
extended  to  other  art  forms  as  well. 
That  this  attitude  reflected  a  low 
estimation  of  the  creative  possibilities 
offered  by  the  American  experiece  is 
clearly  demonstrated  in  the  attitudes  of 
such  literary  artists  as  T.S.  Eliot,  who 
despaired  over  the  poverty  of  American 
culture  and  Henry  James,  who  found  it 
incredible  that  Nathanial  Hawthorne 
could  actually  produce  novels  in  the 
wilderness  of  North  America.  Both 
found  it  necessary  to  emigrate  to 
Europe  in  order  to  find  an  environment 
sufficiently  rich  in  the  cultural  ingre- 
dients essentia]  to  the  creation  of  great 
literature.  Fortunately,  not  all  American 
artists  adopted  so  pessimistic  a  view  of 
the  artistic  potential  of  the  American 


cultural  inventory. 

The  historical  record  will  verify  that 
the  first  group  of  artists  to  create  a  fine 
art  form  that  is  quintessentially  Ameri- 
can, is  the  Afro-American  musician. 
Rooted  in  the  uniquely  American  exper- 
ience of  the  black  folk,  the  black  music- 
ian established  a  classical  musical 
tradition  that  made  neigher  reference 
nor  apology  to  the  traditions  of  Europe. 
Drawing  liberally  from  a  rich  musical 
heritage  that  indluded  spirituals,  work 
songs,  hollers,  country  blues,  city  blues, 
ragtime  and  gospel,  Afro-American  a 
artists  produced  a  classical  music  that 
is  wholly  American  in  both  form  and 
content.  It  was  the  lack  of  self-cons- 
cious intimidation  by  the  achievements 
of  European  culture  that  allowed  the 
black  musician  to  discover  the  process 
by  which  intellect  and  alchemy  combine 
to  transform  folk  art  into  fine  art. 

Writing  in  his  brilliant  account  of 
black  New  York  in  the  1920's,  The 
Harlem  Renaissance,  Afro-American 
historian  and  Harvard  professor,  Nathan 
Huggins  commented,  "Everywhere  they 
looked  they  found  white  men  mimick- 
ing them,  trying  to  master  their  blue 
notes,  their  slurs,  their  swing,  their 
darting  arpeggios,  their  artistic  concept. 
It  was  as  if  black  jazzmen  from  the  very 
beginning  sensed  that  they  were  creating 
an  art  and  the  whole  world  would  have 
to  find  them  the  reference  point  for 
critical  judgement." 

Though  many  arguments  have  been 
offered  to  the  contrary,  jazz  exhibits 
all  the  features  of  a  fine  art  form. 
Jazz  has  its  own  techniques,  termino- 
logy, vocabulary  and  logic.  Jazz  is 
humorous  and  serious,  worldly  and 
spiritual.  It  is  an  art  that  requires  instru- 
mental virtuosity  and  compositional 
skill  from  all  its  practioners.  Unlike 
European  classical  music,  where  tech- 
nique is  often  pursued  as  almost  an 
end  in  itself,  in  jazz,  technical  mastery 
of  an  instrument  is  only  the  starting 
point.  The  object  of  jazz  performance 
is  not  to  faithfully  render  the  notated 
musical  ideas  of  the  composer  but  to 
express  one's  own  attitude  towards  a 
musical  idea  as  one  experiences  it  at  the 
moment.  Hence  it  is  improvisation,  not 
composition  that  is  the  most  valued 
attribute  in  the  art  of  jazz.  In  the  clas- 
sical European  tradition,  the  instrumen- 
talist is  subservient  to  the  composer; 
but  the  instrumentalist  in  classical 
Afro-American    music    seeks    to    over- 


18 


throw  the  tyranny  of  the  composer. 
Hence,  in  jazz,  the  composer's  role  is 
to  set  the  theme  and  parameters  of  the 
musical  repartee. 

It  is  clear  that  the  classical  music 
traditions  of  Europeans  and  Afro- 
Americans  derive  from  different 
epistemologies.  Therefore,  attempts  to 
compare  these  two  art  forms  are  like 
comparing  apples  and  oranges.  Such  a 
comparison  may  be  possible,  but  only  if 
one  devises  a  value-free  method  of 
analysis  that  recognizes  each  thing  for 
what  it  is  intended  to  be.  The  character 
of  all  art  forms  clearly  relfects  the  life 
expericnes  of  the  people  who  create 
them.  The  classical  music  of  Europe 
developed  under  the  patronage  of  the 
church,  state  and  aristocracy.  Many  of 
these  compositions  were  commissioned 
by  princes,  queens,  bishops  and  other 
wealthy  or  powerful  members  of  the 
ruling  elite.  Consequently,  the  music 
projects  a  formal  etiquette  that  prizes 
rigid  organization,  hierarchy,  and  strict 
adherence  to  prescribed  rules. 

The  central  value  in  Afro-American 
classical  music  is  freedom  of  expression. 
This  should  come  as  no  surprise,  for  the 
dominant  theme  in  black  American  his- 
tory is  the  struggle  for  freedom.  And 
the  values  of  group  cooperation  and  in- 
dividual dignity  are  central  to  that 
struggle.  Logically,  the  ultimate  artistic 
expression  of  black  Americans  is  a 
music  that  is  both  highly  collective  yet 
profoundly  personal.  This  desire  for 
personal  expression  in  group  activities 
can  also  be  observed  in  Afro-American 


popular  dance  styles  as  well  as  the 
structure  and  liturgy  of  much  of  the 
black  church.  For  the  jazz  instrumental- 
ist, then,  it  is  not  enough  to  be  a 
competent  ensemble  player,  for  one 
must  also  be  able  to  stand  alone  as  an 
effective  soloist.  Beyond  this,  the  ser- 
ious jazz  artists  is  never  satisfied  until  he 
is  able  to  speak  with  a  unique  voice  on 
his  instrument. 

If  one  thinks  of  any  of  the  great 
jazz  instumentalist,  they  each  have  a 
distinct  style  or  sound  on  their  instru- 
ment. Pianist,  Willie  "the  Lion"  Smith, 
Errol  Garner,  Theolonius  Monk,  Bud 
Powell  and  McCoy  Tyner  all  have  per- 
sonalised sounds  that  are  immediately 
recognizable.  This  is  equally  true  of 
alto  saxophonist,  Charles  Parker  and 
Cannonball  Adderly.  For  anyone  who 
has  the  slightest  conception  of  what  is 
required  to  play  a  musical  instrument,  it 
should  be  obvious  that  thousands  of 
hours  of  serious  study  and  practice 
are  required  for  this  level  of  achivement. 
Much  is  made  of  the  amount  of  practice 
time  required  to  perform  European 
classical  music;  but  jazz  artistry  re- 
quires just  as  much,  if  not  more,  of  the 
same  intense  study;  Percussionist,  com- 
poser, and  bandleader.  Max  Roach  re- 
calls a  bit  of  advice  from  Charles  Parker, 
"You  should  know  your  instrument  so 
well  that  it  becomes  like  another  part 
of  your  body."  Furthermore,  the  jazz 
instrumentalist  must  also  know  some- 
thing of  composition,  for  he  must 
combine  the  creative  and  interpretive 
functions  in  his  artistry.  It  should  be 


abundantly  clear  to  any  serious  student 
of  the  jazz  tradition,  that  this  music 
has  evolved  into  a  fine  art  form  of 
classical  stature. 

That  America's  largely  Anglo-Saxon 
cultural  cabal  refuses  to  accept  this  fact, 
should  surprise  no  one.  For  they  have 
studied  neither  the  jazz  tradition,  nor 
the  African-American  experience  that 
produced  and  informed  it.  Having  pro- 
claimed the  inferiority  of  Black  people 
for  centuries,  they  are  unwilling  to  ac- 
cept any  product  of  Afro-American  cul- 
ture as  serious  art.  Hence  they  can 
deny  financial  support  for  jazz  based  on 
the  argument  that  it  represents  little 
more  than  popular  entertainment.  The 
fact  that  the  music  of  Bud  Powell  and 
Theolonius  Monk  commands  no  greater 
a  popular  following  than  that  of  Bach 
or  Beethoven,  seems  to  have  made  little 
impression  on  them.  They  also  appear 
unimpressed  with  the  fact  that  many 
jazz  artists,  past  and  present,  are  also 
fine  interpreters  of  European  classical 
music. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  it  does  not 
seem  reasonable  to  expect  that  there 
will  be  a  change  of  heart  among  those 
who  control  funding  to  the  arts.  And  I 
can  envision  no  solution  to  this  problem 
that  does  not  presuppose  the  establish- 
ment of  a  nonracist  socialist  society  in 
America.  For  only  in  such  a  society 
would  anything  approaching  cultural 
democracy  be  possible.  Those  who  wish 
to  fight  for  the  survival  and  growth 
of  jazz  as  a  serious  art  form,  must 
eventually  recognize  that  decisions 
about  art  are  political.  One  need  only 
look  at  the  radical  change  in  the  status 
of  black  artists  in  Cuba  after  the 
socialist  revolution  to  demonstrate  this 
point.  Today,  black  art  and  culture  is 
celebrated  in  Cuba.  The  official  poet 
laureate  of  the  nation  is  Nicholar  Guil- 
len, an  Afro-Cuban;  and  the  most 
important  drama  of  the  last  twenty 
years  is  "Shango  do  Ima",  a  play  that 
explores  the  magical  ledgends  of  the 
singing  voodoo  gods  of  West  Africa. 
Afro-Cuban  artists  such  as  the  Paines 
Brothers  and  Los  Folklorica  Afro- 
Cuban  travel  all  over  the  world  as 
cultural  ambassadors  for  Cuba.  Under 
the  old  regime,  white  racism  and  cul- 
tural chauvinism  never  allowed  for  such 
a  development.  The  status  of  the  black 
artist  in  contemporary  Cuba  is  a  direct 
result  of  the  success  of  the  revolution; 
and  the  sweeping  redifinition  of  Cuban 


19 


culture  that  followed.  El  Presidente  Fidel 
Castro  has  called  Cuba  an  Afro-Latin  socie- 
ty, an  obvious  enough  description,  but  one 
never  before  admitted  on  an  official  level. 
Once  the  true  ethnic  components  of  Cuban 
culture  were  acknowledged,  it  was  then 
possible  to  develop  a  cultural  policy  which 
refected  these  realities.  Many  Afro-Cuban 
performing  artists  who  were  previously 
confined  to  dives  or  street  corners  are  now 
leading  a  dignified  existence  with  their 
creative  activities  subsidized  by  the  govern- 
ment. Under  these  new  policies  the  in- 
digenous artistic  traditions  of  Cuba  are 
flourishing.  If  the  small  economically 
underdeveloped  island  nation  of  Cuba  can 
do  this  for  its  artists,  we  ought  to  insist  on 
nothing  less  from  the  wealthiest  country  in 
the  world. 

In  announcing  this  decision  to  cut  the  Na- 
tional Endowment  for  the  Arts,  President 
Reagan  suggested  that  artists  look  to  the 
private  sector  for  support.  The  problem 
with  this  point  of  view  is  that  it  leaves  fun- 
damental decisions  about  cultural  matters 
to  those  with  the  most  money  to  spend  on 
philanthropic  causes.  This  will  insure  that 
the  American  people  will  have  only  that 
culture  which  the  corporate  elite  deems 
suitable.  For  jazz,  this  is  an  ominous 
development  because  most  white 
businessmen  either  hold  a  racist  patrician 
view  of  culture,  or  none  at  all.  Giving 
businessmen  control  of  the  arts  is  much  like 
placing  a  hawk  in  charge  of  the  chicken 
coop.  For  this  is  the  very  group  that  is 
responsible  for  the  banalization  of 
American  culture.  Such  an  arrangement  is 
certain  to  result  in  the  people  being  offered 
bread  and  circuses  in  place  of  the  great  art 
that  serves  as  food  for  the  mind  and  soul. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  danger  to  the  con- 
tinued existence  of  jazz  is  the  decline  of  an 
Afro- American  audience.  This  decline 
reflects  the  alienation  of  contemporary 
Black  Americans  from  the  jazz  tradition 
and  poses  serious  questions  about  both  the 
future  of  jazz  and  the  state  of  Afro- 
American  culture.  For  most  of  its  history, 
jazz  was  an  art  performed  by  black  musi- 
cians for  black  audiences.  The  decline  of 
this  audience  symbolizes  a  profound  change 
in  the  collective  sensibilities  of  Black 
Americans.  For  above  all  else.  Black  Music 
is  a  pretty  accurate  sound  mirror  reflecting 
the  inner  life  of  Afro-Americans.  And  jazz 
is  the  most  sophisticated  artistic  response 
to  the  American  experience  as  synthesized 
in  the  soul  of  Black  America.  In  the 
language  of  jazz  one  hears  the  articulation 


of  a  wide  range  of  attitudes,  ideas  and 
values.  The  wit  of  Lee  Morgan,  the  humor 
of  Dizzy  Gillespie,  the  revolutionary 
thunder  of  Max  Roach,  the  ascetic  religious 
devotion  of  McCoy  Tyner,  the  academic 
precision  of  Hubert  Laws,  the  abstract  ex- 
pressionism of  Ornette  Coleman  and  the 
mystical  musings  of  John  and  Alice  Col- 
trane  are  all  part  of  the  lexicon  of  jazz. 

One  can  only  speculate  as  to  whether  the 
rejection  of  the  jazz  tradition  implies  the 
dulling  of  these  sensibilities,  especially 
among  the  youth  who  are  devoted  listeners 
to  mechanically  produced  dance  music.  But 
one  thing  is  certain,  commercial  music  with 
its  lack  of  musical  complexity  and 
monothematic  concerns,  can  never  convey 
the  subtlety  and  texture  of  human  emotions 
one  hears  in  jazz.  Furthermore,  no  com- 
mercial music  can  pose  the  intellectual 
challenge  offered  by  jazz;  and  for  that 
reason  alone,  black  youth  are  missing  out 
on  an  important  part  of  their  heritage.  The 
wealth  and  celebrity  associated  with  suc- 
cess in  popular  music  is  leading  many 
young  musicians  to  avoid  the  difficult 
challenge  of  jazz  improvisation,  and  opt  in- 
stead, for  a  musical  career  in  which 
knowledge  of  five  chords  is  sufficient  for 
success.  The  danger  to  the  survival  of  the 
jazz  tradition  here  is  obvious,  for  it  is  be- 
ing subverted  at  the  source. 

It  would  seem  that  if  anyone  would 
recognize  the  value  of  jazz  and  celebrate 
its  achievement  it  would  be  the  black 
bourgeoisie.  For  here  is  a  splendid  exam- 
ple of  the  black  creative  intelligence  at 
work.  In  jazz,  we  have  an  artistic  discipline 
which  sets  the  highest  standards  of  ex- 
cellence and  requires  years  of  devoted 
study  to  master.  Yet,  most  of  the  black  mid- 
dle class  remains  oblivious  to  the  dimen- 
sions of  this  achievement.  Part  of  this  prob- 
lem results  from  the  fact  that  many  middle 
class  blacks  have  adopted  the  materialistic 
Philistinism  of  their  white  counterparts.  It's 
not  the  soaring  stacatto  attacks  of  Freddie 
Hubbard  that  excites  them;  or  the  indigo 
moods  of  an  Ellington  tone  poem  that 
delights  them;  oh  no,  only  a  steel  gray 
Mercedes  450  XL  can  really  turn  them  on. 

Having  spent  a  lifetime  in  schools  that 
despise  and  ignore  black  cultural  traditions, 
much  of  the  black  bourgeoisie  remains 
miseducated  and  culturally  insecure.  Indoc- 
trinated in  the  idea  that  fine  art  music  is 
synonymous  with  the  European  classical 
form,  they  are  ambivalent  when  confronted 
with  the  finest  fruit  of  their  own  tradition, 
jazz.  In  an  essay  entitled  "Philistinism  and 


the  Black  Writer,"  Imamu  Baraka 
describes  the  tremendous  struggle  they 
waged  against  the  administration  at  Howard 
University  in  order  to  produce  a  jazz  con- 
cert. The  Dean  of  the  Music  School  cried 
hysterically  when  it  was  suggested  that  the 
concert  be  held  in  the  Fine  Arts  building. 
It  is  almost  beyond  belief  that  such  cultural- 
ly backwards  ideas  could  have  prevailed  in 
the  leading  Black  University  in  the  world 
as  late  as  1957! 

The  hostile  attitude  towards  jazz 
displayed  by  many  black  academics, 
reflects  an  embarrassment  about  certain 
aspects  of  jazz  history.  In  their  zeal  to 
disprove  the  stereotypical  image  of  black 
folks  as  immoral  creatures  given  to  licen- 
tiousness and  debauchery,  earlier  genera- 
tions of  these  academics  were  quite  am- 
bivalent about  jazz  as  serious,  represent- 
ative, Afro-American  art.  This  was  due 
largely  to  the  fact  that  jazz  was  associated 
with  brothels  in  its  early  development;  bars 
and  cabarets  throughout  its  history,  and 
some  of  the  arts  most  gifted  innovators 
were  addicted  to  alcohol  and  drugs.  But  the 
fact  that  Socrates  and  Tchaikovsky  were 
homosexuals;  Shakespeare  a  bi-sexual; 
Gauguin  an  irresponsible  philanderer; 
Robert  Browning  an  opium  addict;  and 
Edgar  Allen  Poe,  a  habitual  drunk  never 
brought  on  similar  rejections  of  their  crea- 
tions. However,  such  attitudes  are  consist- 
ent with  the  outlook  of  colonized  intellec- 
tuals who  slavishly  adopt  the  chauvinistic 
views  of  their  ruling  class  tutors. 

However,  it  would  be  misleading  to  leave 
the  reader  with  the  impression  that  this  is 
the  prevailing  attitude  of  contemporary 
Afro- American  academics.  For  there  are 
many  black  scholars  engaged  in  serious  ef- 
forts to  define  and  preserve  the  jazz  legacy 
and  its  antecedents,  such  scholars  as  Pro- 
fessors Ortiz  Walton,  Roland  Wiggins, 
Ann  Southern,  Fred  Tillis,  David  Baker, 
J.R.  Mitchell,  Archie  Shepp,  Bob  Cole, 
Portia  Maultsby,  A.B.  Spellman,  Albert 
Murray  and  Imamu  Baraka  are  all  making 
important  contributions.  Of  course,  there 
has  long  been  a  healthy  interest  in  jazz  on 
the  part  of  black  creative  intellectuals.  This 
concern  extends  to  the  very  beginnings  of 
the  jazz  tradition.  The  turn-of-the-century 
novelist  and  poets,  Paul  Laurence  Dunbar 
and  James  Weldon  Johnson  were  both  great 
lovers  of  the  music  and  were  also  fine 
lyricists. 

The  meter  and  style  of  the  poetry  of 
Sterling  Brown  and  Langston  Hughes  make 
conscious  reference  to  the  blues  tradition 


20 


and  Albert  Murray  argues  that  Ralph 
Ellison's  great  novel.  "The  Invisible  Man" 
is  really  an  extended  blues.  The  wonder- 
fully inventive  fiction  and  drama  of  Ishmael 
Reed  and  Aisha  Rahman  are  both  based  on 
a  jazz  motif.  And  of  course,  many  of  the 
best  contemporary  Afro-American  poets 
are  singing  a  jazz  song.  Carlyle  McBeth, 
Imamu  Baraka,  David  Amus  Moore. 
Camille  Yarborough,  Ntozake  Shange. 
Larry  Neal,  Askia  Muhammad  Toure, 
Stanley  Crouch,  Sonia  Sanchez.  Yusef 
Rahman  and  Quincey  Troupe  all  construct 
their  work  around  a  jazz  aesthetic.  It  should 
also  be  pointed  out  that  modern  Afro- 
American  choreographers  such  as  Alvin 
Alley,  Rod  Rodgers,  Eleo  Palmare  and 
Diane  Mclntyre  all  feature  jazz  prominendy 
in  their  work.  But,  alas,  all  of  this  is  of  lit- 
tle consequence  to  the  majority  of 
bourgeois  blacks,  for  they  are  equally  in- 
different to  all  forms  of  serious  Afro- 
American  art. 

The  ultimate  tragedy  in  this  case  is  that 
these  attitudes  deprive  the  black  jazz  artists 
of  their  logical  patrons.  For  one  of  the  most 
important  roles  of  the  educated  and  affluent 
classes  in  each  ethtiic  group  is  to  subsidize 
the  advancement  of  group  culture  by 
patronizing  their  important  artists.  The 
absence  of  any  coherent  concept  of  black 
culture  and  a  confused  sense  of  values  has 
resulted  in  an  attitude  of  indifference 
toward  the  plight  of  the  jazz  artist.  Instead, 
the  black  bourgeois  spends  millions  of 
dollars  annually  on  cosmetic  music  that 
anesthesizes  them  from  reality.  This  is  a  sad 
situation  indeed,  for  this  group  possesses 
the  resources  to  insure  the  continuation  of 
the  jazz  tradition.  The  relative  economic 
deprivation  and  artistic  obscurity  that 
plagues  the  average  jazz  musician  is  caus- 
ing many  artists  to  abandon  this  genre  and 
opt  for  careers  in  popular  commercial 
music.  Among  them  are  some  of  the  most 
important  virtuosos  in  jazz:  Herbie  Han- 
cock, Wayne  Shorter,  George  Benson, 
Ramsey  Lewis,  Roy  Ayers  and  Stanley 
Turrentine  are  all  presently  lost  to  Mickey 
Mouse  music. 

The  final  nail  in  the  coffin  of  jazz  may 
well  be  the  vanishing  opportunities  for 
young  musicians  to  participate  in  jam  ses- 
sions. In  the  absence  of  the  kind  of  institu- 
tional structure  advocated  by  Dr.  Ortiz 
Walton  in  his  excellent  book,  "Music: 
Black,  White  and  Blue,"  these  sessions 
have  been  the  main  classrooms  of  instruc- 
tion for  developing  musicians.  The  centrali- 
ty  of  the  jam  session  to  the  evolution  of  jazz 


Robin  Chandler  Smith 


artistry  is  verified  by  the  testimony  of  a 
long  line  of  musicians.  Jelly  Roll  Morton, 
Scott  Joplin,  James  Weldon  Johnson,  Ralph 
Ellison,  Billy  Taylor,  Mezz  Mezzro,  Max 
Roach,  and  Dizzy  Gillespie  have  all  com- 
mented on  the  importance  of  these  sessions 
to  their  development.  Interestingly  enough, 
most  of  the  establishments  that  hosted  these 
sessions  were  black-owned.  A  great  deal 
of  the  early  ragtime,  musical  theater,  and 
large  ensemble  styles  were  worked  out  in 
places  like  the  Old  Marshall  Hotel  on  West 
53rd  Street  and  the  Clef  Club  Uptown.  And 
one  of  the  most  exciting  movements  in 
Modern  art,  the  be-bop  revolution,  was 


largely  developed  in  Minton's  Playhouse. 
All  of  these  establishments  had  black  pro- 
prietors. Here  is  a  clear  cut  role  affluent 
blacks  can  play;  and  it  requires  neither  ex- 
tensive musical  education  nor  control  of  the 
music  industry. 

In  view  of  the  many  obstacles  facing  the 
serious  jazz  artist,  the  active  support  of  the 
black  middle  class  is  critical.  If  the  black 
bourgeois  fails  to  rise  to  this  occasion,  jazz 
may  continue  to  exist  in  a  hyphenated  form 
practiced  by  whites,  but  the  survival  of  jazz 
as  a  serious  Afro-American  art  form  is 
problematic  at  best. 


21 


by  Brad  Kaplan 


Gregory  began  his  career  as  a  com- 
edian in  1958  at  a  black  nightclub  in 
Chicago,  which  turned  out  to  be  his 
spring  board  into  the  national  limelight. 
He  was  the  first  black  social  artist  to 
appeal  to  both  black  and  white  audien- 
ces. 

In  1962  Gregory  became  involved  in 
civil  rights  and  found  this  to  be  a  more 
important  outlet  for  his  talent  and 
energy.  During  the  late  1960's  he  be- 
came involved  in  student  activism,  op- 
position to  the  Vietnam  War,  environ- 
mental protection  and  the  rights  of 
American  Indians. 

Since  November  1967,  he  has  used 
fasting  to  bring  attention  to  his  protest 
of  numerous  social  and  policital  wrongs. 
In  1967,  Gregory  ran  a  write  -  in  cam- 
paign against  Richard  Daley  in  the 
Chicago  mayoral  election,  gaining 
22,000  votes.  A  second  write  in  cam- 
paign during  the  Democratic  presiden- 
tial primaries  of  1968  broght  him 
150,000  votes.  He  has  written  numerous 
acclaimed  books  on  civil  rights  and  heal- 
the,  including,  "From  the  Back  of  The 
Bus",  "Write  Me  In"  and  "Dick  Greg- 
ory's Political  primer". 

Always  an  individualist,  Gregory 
doesn't  identify  himself  with  any  single 
civil  rights  or  peace  organization.  How- 
ever his  celebrity  status  enables  him  to 
act  alone  for  the  causes  he  exposes. 
Speaking  at  Smith  College  recently, 
Gregory  gave  to  DRUM  an  insiders  look 
at  his  beliefs  and  politics. 


DRUM  -  What  in  your  background  led 
you  toward  the  humor,  beliefs 
and  convictions  you  have  to- 
day? 

DICK  -  Oh,  I  don't  know,  radio,  I 
guess.  We  didn't  have  televi- 
sion. My  mother  listened  to  all 
the  comdey  stories  and  the 
news,  so  the  humor,  for  the 
most  part,  came  from  those. 
I  guess  my  convictions  came 
from  the  Civil  Rights  move- 
ment, being  a  performer  during 
the  movement  and  also  being 
married  to  a  woman  that 
never  put  demands  on  me  as 
a  celebrity.  As  a  father  of  ten 
children,  I've  always  wanted 
the  best  for  them.  I  make  deci- 
sions based  on  how  they  will 
affect  my  children  as  well  as 
the  mass  of  people. 

DRUM  -  That's  a  great  view  and  it's 
to  bad  everyone  doesn't  have 
that  conviction. 

DICK  -  Well,  those  of  us  who  do  have 
it  and  are  vocal  about  it  are 
just  cin  extension  of  a  whole 
lot  of  good  people  who  protect 
you.  So  we  are  just  an  exten- 
sion of  a  whole  lot  of  people. 

DRUM  -  What  led  you  to  move  away 
from  pure  comedy,  into  this 
activism? 

DICK  -  It  was  just  being  out  in  the 
Movement  and  seeing  an  awful 
lot  of  people  -  not  the  leader- 
ship, but  the  masses  of  people 
out  there  in  the  street  that 
would  never  get  their  names  in 


the  paper.  Nobody  ever  cared 
if  they  was  beat  or  stomped 
or  what.  Remember,  the  dogs 
didn't  bite  King.  (We  react  to 
celebrity  status.  Being  out  in 
the  street  and  being  a  cele- 
brity at  the  same  time  and 
having  a  feeling  that  when 
I  was  laying  up  in  jail  in  the 
middle  of  the  movemnt,  I  real- 
ized that  being  a  celebrity  did 
not  bring  about  the  same  good 
feelings  that  I  experienced 
from  working  with  the  Move- 
ment.) So  there  was  never  a 
question  of  how  my  involve- 
ment in  the  Movement  would 
affect  my  career  in  show  busi- 
ness. The  question  was:  How 
would  my  show  business  career 
affect  my  demonstrations? 
Would  I  be  locked  into  con- 
tracts? First,  I  stopped  booking 
myself  far  in  advance.  Next,  I 
decided  I  wasn't  going  to  work 
in  nightclubs  that  served  alchol 
that's  all  of  them.  There  was 
a  conflict  saying,  "Come  on 
down  to  the  nightclub  and 
catch  my  act."  I  know  I  started 
smoking  cause  my  heroes  were 
smoking,  Alan  Ladd  and 
Humphrey  Bogart.  I  started 
drinking  cause  my  heroes  were 
drinking.  I  don't  ever  want  to 
put  myself  in  a  position  where 
I  can  trun  someone  on  to 
something  negative  that's  going 
to  affect  their  body  because  of 
who  I  am.  So  I  drew  a  line  and 


22 


said,  "No  more  nightclubs." 

DRUM  -  You  can't  really  stand  in  a 
smokey  nightclub  and  talk 
about  how  bad  cigarettes  are 
either. 

DICK  -  Oh  you  really  can,  cause  when 
you're  hot,  man,  they'll  tole- 
rate anything.  Man,  if  Hitler 
came  back,  they'd  hook  him. 

DRUM  -  How  do  you  feel  about 
racism  as  an  underlying  cause 
of  all  war,  civil  strife,  poverty? 

DICK  -  I  think  you  have  to  go  at  it  at 
a  level  higher  than  that.  Racism 
is  something  that's  manipulat- 
ed by  the  handful  of  people 
who  manipulate  the  system. 
They  tell  you  who  to  hate  and 
who  not  to  hate.  When  you 
think  of  Russia  you  think  of 
the  color  red.  We  always  call- 
ed the  Communist  Chinese  the 
Red  Chinese.  We've  always 
taken  liberties  and  priviledges. 
Then  one  day  we  decided  we're 
going  to  like  them.  All  at  once 
we  don't  call  them  Red  China 
no  more.  The  problem  is  that 
racism  and  sexism  are  a  detir- 
ment  to  those  people  who  par- 
ticipate in  it.  For  instance, 
if  I  came  here  tonight  with  a 
pocket  full  of  horse  manure  to 
throw  on  everyone  -  whose 
pocket  stunk  all  day?  There's 
or  mine?  Horse  manure  will 
make  my  pocket  stink.  Think 
about  racism  and  sexism  and 
what  it  does  to  the  mind.  If 
I've  got  a  choice  I'd  rather  have 


a  stinky  pocket  than  a  stinky 
mind  'cause  at  least  I  can  take 
this  coat  off;  that's  where  the 
problem  is. 

DRUM  -  Are  you  optimistic  about  our 
generation?  When  we  fill  some 
of  those  positions  of  authority 
are  we  going  to  perpetuate  the 
system? 

DICK  -  You  ain't  got  no  choice. 
Either  you're  going  to  turn  it 
around  or  it's  going  to  all  fall 
in.  We're  at  the  end  of  it  now. 
If  there's  any  God  at  all  that 
says  "what  goes  around  comes 
around",  its  "come  around" 
time.  We  ain't  got  no  choice. 
You  see,  we're  in  a  very  unique 
position  during  this  period. 
You're  either  going  to  take  the 
pot  off  the  stove  or  you're 
going  to  have  an  empty  pot. 
The  steam  is  comin'  out  and 
what  used  to  be  in  the  pot 
ain't  in  there  no  more. 

DRUM  -  Student  apathy  on  campuses 
is  disgusting.  We  were  wonder- 
ing what  you  think  can  be 
done  about  apathy  in  the  black 
student  communities? 

DICK  -  First  you  have  to  organize. 
It's  like  if  I  said  I  would  give 
you  ten  thousand  tons  of  dia- 
mond for  the  movement  but 
you've  got  to  carry  it  out  now. 
I  would  be  doing  you  a  dis- 
service. I  ain't  gave  you  noth- 
ing cause  you  can't  carry  it. 
You  take  a  little  piece  you  can 
deal  with.  You  find  the  hand- 


ful that's  not  apathetic  and 
you  sit  down  and  build  your 
inner  group.  There's  a  song 
that  says,  "start  me  with  ten 
that  are  stout  hearted  and 
I'll  send  you  the  ten  thousand 
more".  It  didn't  say  start  me 
with  ten  thousand.  All  you've 
got  to  do  is  plant  the  seeds, 
build  a  foundation.  All  you've 
got  to  do  is  plant  the  seeds, 
build  a  foundation.  You've  got 
to  pace  in  order  to  organize. 
You  should  bring  a  group  on 
campus  and  charge  $50  to  get 
in,  but  if  you've  got  a  voter 
registration  card  you  get  in  for 
a  dollar.  You  see,  the  people 
who  manipulate  don't  look  at 
your  voting  pattern.  They  look 
at  that  block  as  "registered". 
Wow!  That's  power.  If  you  had 
ten  million  dollars,  everybody 
that  has  anything  to  sell  is 
going  to  be  beating  a  path  to 
your  door.  Power  lies  in  regis- 
tration, not  voting.  I'm  not 
saying,  "don't  vote,"  but  the 
power  lies  in  registration. 

DRUM  -  It  has  so  much  to  say  about 
sour  society,  instant  gratifica- 
tion. If  people  don't  sense  that 
they  can  change  it  overnight 
they're  not  even  going  to  deal 
with  it. 

DICK  -  You  see  that's  what  movies 
do.  If  I  look  at  a  ninety  minute 
series  on  TV  tonight,  they'll 
show  the  scientist  being  born, 
doing  his  thing  and  dead.  This 

continued  page  30 

23 


Paul  Goodnight 


24 


UNITED  STATES 
INTERVENTION 
IN  CENTRAL  AMERICA 


/ 


by  Sister  AOH 


us  intervention  in  Central  America 
is  made  possible  by  many  factors.  Most 
of  the  countries  in  which  the  US  govern- 
ment intervenes  are  ruled  by  dictatorial 
regimes.  These  dictatorial  regimes  are 
directly  and  indirectly  supported  by  the 
US  government.  The  predominant 
actions  of  dictatorships  are  corrupt,  and 
their  most  common  practices  are  the 
oppression  and  exploitation  of  the 
native  population.  The  major  problem 
that  results  is  that  the  people  of  these 
countries  do  not  have  control  of  their 
resources  because  their  leadership  is  al- 
lied to  an  outside  power.  The  US 
government  via  puppet  dictatorships  ex- 
ploits the  natural  and  human  resources 
of  Central  American  countries.  In  doing 
so,  the  US  government  decreased  the 
dignity  of  each  nation.  The  US  govern- 
ment concerns  itself  only  with  the  pros- 
pect of  expanding  its  market  for  private 
enterprise  while  ignoring  the  welfare  of 
the  native  population. 

The  US  government  supports  dictator- 
ship in  Central  America  in  order  to 
maintain  its  control  over  these  nations. 
The  supported  dictators  and  the  ex- 
ploitation of  Central  America  which 
follows  is  based  on  US  fear  of  Com- 
munist expansion  in  the  region.  This 
fear  of  Communism  was  generated  in 
the  US  following  the  Russian  and  the 
Chinese  Revolutions  in  1917  and  1948 
respectively.  The  theory  that  a  Com- 
munist revolution  could  be  exported 
has  been  used  continously  to  justify  US 
military  presence  in  Central  America. 

Since  the  Cuban  Revolution  in  1959 
and  the  Sandinista  Revolution  in  1979, 
the  US  government  has  been  using 
Latin  American  countries  as  the  front 
line  in  the  battle  aginast  Communism. 
The  US  government  propagates  the 
theories  that  revolution  is  externally 
encouraged  for  Central  America.  How- 
ever, the  makers  of  US/Central 
American  policy  ignore  the  evidence 
that  the  Central  American  people 
choose  revolution  in  an  attempt  to  over- 
throw an  exploitative  and  repressive 
regime  and  to  regain  their  self-deter- 
mination. 

The  US  government  controls  the  region 
in  terms  of  domestic  political  affairs, 
civil  liberty,  and  Central  American  fore- 
ign policy  toward  other  countries.  The 
US  government  provides  both  military 
and  economic  aid  to  military  dictator- 
ships in  Central  America,  despite  the 
common    and    widespread    practice    of 


25 


such  regimes,  given  the  support,  in  mur- 
dering anyone  who  opposes  their 
policies. 

The  US  government  has  a  long  history 
of  support  for  dictatorship  in  Central 
America,  beginning  50  years  ago  with 
the  support  of  the  Somoza  regime  in 
Nicaragua  before  it  was  overthrown  in 
1979.  Since  the  US  government  sup- 
ports El  Salvadoran,  Guatemalian, 
Honduran  dictatorial  regimes,  as  well  as 
the  counter-revolutionaries  in  Nicara- 
gua. 


The  US  government  directly  intervened 
in  Guatemala  in  1954,  by  overthrowing 
a  freely  elected  government  and  by  in- 
stalling a  CIA  protege  in  the  presidential 
palace.  Then,  Colonel  Carlos  Castillo 
Armas  was  flown  in  form  Honduras  on 
a  US  embassy  plane  to  head  the  first  of 
a  succession  of  anti-communist  regimes. 
With  their  advanced  weapons  and  tech- 
nology, Guatemalan  local  bourgeoisie 
along  with  Guatemalan  dictators  and 
the  US  government  created  a  complex 
pattern  of  oppression  against  Guatemal- 
ans, an  oppression  that  lessens  Guate- 
malan national  self-determination.  The 
situation  called  for  a  struggle  that  would 
lead  Guatemalans  out  of  both  US  imper- 
ialist intervention  and  local  bourgeois 
oppression. 

Currently,  in  El  Salvador,  the  US 
government  backed  Salvadoran  military 
regime.  Salvadorian  successsive  military 
regimes  began  when  a  junta  composed 
of  two  army  and  three  civilians,  seized 
power  on  October  15, 1979.  Since  then, 
military  death-squads  have  systemically 
repressed  peasant  organizations.  In  spite 
of  the  death-squads  widespread  activi- 
ies.  El  Salvador  is  still  the  largest  reci- 
pient of  US  military  aid.  It  has  been 
estimated  that  80%  of  all  Salvadorian 
victims  of  terrorism  are  killed  by  army 
members  and  other  US  supported 
"security  forces".  Despite  these  facts, 
the  US  government  has  taken  on  an  in- 
creasingly sharp  role  in  directing  the 
junta  and  its  policy. 

President  Reagan  sees  El  Salvador  as  a 
prime  target  of  Soviet  bloc  "expansion- 
ism". Similariy,  former  President  John- 
son blamed  the  Viet  Nam  conflict  on 
outside  Communist  intervention.  IN 
both  cases,  the  struggle  resulted  from 
long  standing  internal  strife  with  US 
backed  military  governments,  not  com- 


munist intervention.  Opposition  to  US 
intervention  in  El  Salvador  is  a  response 
to  the  continuation  of  unjust  and  re- 
pressive dictatorial  regimes. 

What's  going  on  in  El  Salvador  is  a  strug- 
gle of  peasants  and  workers  against 
social  and  economic  injustice.  The 
struggle  has  gained  support  from  the 
Jesuit  order  of  the  Catholic  church  in 
El  Salvador.  The  church  has  been  deeply 
involved  in  Salvadorans'  struggle  since 
the  meeting  at  Medellin,  Columbia,  in 
1968,  wherein  the  Jesuits  declared  the 
hujan  rights  situation  intolerable. 

Right-wing  "death-squads",  financed  by 
rich  Salvadorans  living  inside  and  out- 
side of  the  country,  have  been  used  to 
terrorize  the  Salvadorans  into  submit- 
ting to  dictatorial  rule  by  force.  It  is 
widely  believed  that  the  US  supported 
Salvadoran  military  regime  controls 
much  of  the  activities  of  the  "death- 
squads".  This  belief  was  recently  con- 
firmed by  US  Vice  President  George 
Bush.  Bush  condemns  the  Salvadoran 
government's  "right-wing  fanatics". 

In  the  face  of  these  attacks,  human 
rights  in  El  Salvador  are  virtually  non- 
existent. Despite  this  fact,  the  Reagan 
Administration  has  certified,  beginning 
Jan.  1981,  progress  on  human  rights  in 
El  Salvadorans'  economic  and  political 
system  every  6  months  for  over  two 
years.  A  week  after  this  certification, 
the  Salvadoran  Right-wing  increased  its 
political  violence  by  arresting  and 
bombing  the  Salvadoran  freedom  figh- 
ters' controlled  territory.  The  Reagan 
Administration  observed  that  murders 
have  slowed  down  from  several  thous- 
ands per  month  to  three  hundred  per 
month.  Six  months  later,  the  murders 
shot  back  up  to  about  two  thousand 
per  month,  according  to  a  report  by  the 
US  embassy  in  San  Salvador. 

The  Salvadorans'  struggle  is  in  response 
to  the  intensity  of  dictatoral  oppres- 
sion and  the  exploitation  of  El  Salva- 
dor's resources.  With  or  without  any 
political  influence,  the  Salvadoran 
struggle  is  purely  a  struggle  for  basic 
human  needs.  It  would  seem  that  recent 
US  aid  would  benefit  the  human  needs 
of  El  Salvador.  In  1980  alone,  the  US 
government  sent  aid  to  El  Salvador  at 
the  amount  of  $32.2  million.  However, 
the  millions  of  dollars  sent  to  El  Salva- 
dor did  not  benefit  the  needy  is  re- 
flected in  the  12th  of  December  1982, 


UN  General  Assembly  resolution.  That 
resolution  called  on  "all  governments 
to  refrain  from  sending  arms  and  mili- 
tary assistance  to  El  Salvador".  The  im- 
plication is  obvious  that  the  US  sup- 
ported military  purchase  and  by  that 
action  showed  that  the  US  government 
does  not  place  any  value  on  the  UN 
decision  concerning  US  intervention  in 
other  countries'  domestic  affairs.  These 
particular  aids  to  El  Salvador  are  not 
only  and  indication  of  the  US  direct 
intervention  through  Salvadoran  repres- 
sive regime,  but  also  an  indication  of  the 
"insignificance"  of  the  UN  as  a  world 
organization. 

In  January  1981,  President  Carter  sent 
an  emergency  military  assistance  worth 
$5  million  to  El  Salvador.  The  package 
included  M-16  rifles;  grenades  and  gre- 
nade launchers;  steel  helmets;  flak 
jackets;  and  C-  reaction  (chemical  reac- 
tion). Carter  justified  such  aid  by  stating 
that  "intelligence  reports  confirm  that 
Salvadoran  freedom  fighters  have  ob- 
tained from  abroad  a  substantial  quan- 
tity of  lethal  weapons".  By  21  Jan., 
1981,  close  to  250  US  military  advisors 
were  in  El  Salvador. 

Also  in  1981,  the  Reagan  Administra- 
tion sent  50  military  advisors  to  El  Sal- 
vador to  teach  Viet  Nam-Style  counter- 
insurgency  techniques,  i.e.  the  use  of 
toxic  gas  and  Huey-helicopters;  and 
special  search-and-destroy  technique. 
Then,  in  1982,  the  Reagan  Administra- 
tion announced  plans  to  train  1500 
Salvadoran  soldiers.  The  training  was  to 
take  place  in  North  Carolina  and  Geor- 
gia to  circumvent  the  need  for  addition- 
al US  training  personnel  in  El  Salvador. 
In  1983,  a  thousand  men  were  trained 
as  an  infantry  battalion  at  Fort  Bragg 
in  North  Carolina.  Fort  Bragg  is  a 
special  Warfare  Center  which  has  been 
used  to  direct  US  counter-insurgent 
operations  in  the  Third  Worid  for  two 
decades.  The  remaining  five  or  six  hun- 
dred-junior officers  were  trained  at  Fort 
Benning  in  Georgia. 

The  Salvadoran  military  is  "one  of  the 
most  out  -  of  -  control,  blood  -  thirsty 
groups  of  men  in  the  world",  according 
to  Robert  White,  the  former  US  Ambas- 
sador to  El  Salvador.  The  increasing  US 
aid  to  Salvadoran  dictatorial  regimes 
from  $100  million  to  $300  million  with- 
in one  fiscal  year  reveals  the  desperate 
need  for  Salvadoran  self-determination. 
Salvadorans  are  an  independent  people, 


26 


capable  of  resolving  their  own  affairs. 
When  Salvadorans  conclude  that  dicta- 
torship must  be  overthrown,  the  US 
government  ignores  Salvadorans'  in- 
dependence and  intervenes  by  support- 
ing repressive  regimes. 

The  US  government  has  also  been  using 
Honduras  a  regional  gendarme.  Hon- 
duras is  currently  the  second  largest 
recipient  of  US  military  aid  in  all  Latin 
America,  trailing  only  El  Salvador. 
Honduran  military,  under  command  of 
Gustova  Alvarez,  and  Argentine  trained 
soldier  favored  by  the  Pentagon,  pro- 
nounced the  military's  three  elements 
of  policy:  prevention;  repression;  and, 
no  capture.  The  prevention  is  to  elimi- 
nate the  possibility  of  a  strong  radical 
organization;  repression  is  targeted 
primarily  at  Salvadorans  in  Honduras 
who  help  these  Salvadorans;  and  a  no 
capture,  but  kidnap  policy  is  self 
explanatory. 

Along  with  its  repressive  policy,  the 
military  gorges  itself  with  new  dollars 
from  Washington  despite  the  swelling 
numbers  of  starving  Hondurans.  Under 
Alvarez  the  decisions  concerning  Hon- 
duras' domestic  and  foreign  affairs 
begin  with  the  US  State  Department. 
From  the  US  State  Department,  the 
decisions  proceed  to  the  US  Embassy, 
then,  to  Alvarez  and  subsequently  to 
civilian  president  Roberto  Suazo  Cor- 
dovra. 

The  US  government  installed  in  Hon- 
duras a  training  regional  military  unit, 
CREMS  -  the  Centro  Regional  de  Entre 
Amiento  Military.  The  CREMS  has  a 
double  impact  on  Honduran  life  out- 
side the  military.  One  impact  is  in  in- 
creased incidence  of  prostitution,  bars 
and  restaurants  catering  to  service 
personnel.  Consequently,  prices  for 
basic  goods  have  been  severely  inflated, 
as  much  as  four  times  due  to  the  sudden 
influx  of  US  dollars.  Thus,  the  struggle 
of  Hondurans  has  increased,  and  the 
increase  is  evident  in  the  decision  to 
openly  oppose  each  other  within  both 
the  liberal  and  the  National  Parties. 

The  US  supported  Honduran  dictatorial 
regime  continues  to  repress  the  Hon- 
durans' voice  which  speaks  out  against 
political  and  economical  conditions. 
The  Hondurans'  struggle  is  another 
struggle  for  self-determination  and 
human  rights.  Hondurans  strive  against 
the  military  regimes  while  US  interven- 


tion and  exploitation  support  that  same 
regime  responsible  for  oppression.  Re- 
volution is  one,  and  only  one,  process 
to  totally  eliminate  oppression  and 
exploitation  in  Honduras,  and  the 
Hondrans  have  come  to  recognize  this 
fact. 

In  Nicaragua,  US  naval  forces  first  inter- 
vened in  1909  after  two  American  citi- 
zens had  been  executed  General  Au- 
gusto  Sandino  began  to  rid  his  country 
of  American  troops  in  1927.  Under  his 
leadership,  the  Nicaraguan  freedom 
fighters  fought  the  US  troops  successful- 
ly until  the  US  withdrawal  in  1933. 
After  the  withdrawal,  the  US  govern- 
ment set  up  a  repressive  regime  to  reas- 
sert its  control  over  Nicargua.  The  US 
trained  General  Anastasio  Somoza  Gar- 
cia to  head  the  National  Guard.  Somoza 
assassinated  Sandino  and  overthrew  the 
liberal  President  Juan  Batista  Sacassa. 
Somoza,  than,  established  a  military 
dicatatorship  andbecame  the  new  pre- 
sident. In  1956,  Somoza  was  succeeded 
by  his  son.  Louis,  who  was  in  the  pre- 
sidency until  1967.  Another  son.  Major 
General  Anastasio  Somoza  Debayle, 
became  President  in  1967.  This  was  a 
one  family  dictatorial  regime,  backed  by 
the  US. 

In  August  1979,  the  provisional  govern- 
ment and  the  National  Direction  of  the 
Saninista  National  Liberation  Front 
(FSLN),  along  Sandinista  columns  were 
welcomed  at  Managua's  central  plaza. 
Nicaraguans  had  defeated  the  US  sup- 
ported dictator  Somoza.  Once  again, 
Nicaraguans  regained  their  indepen- 
dence and  their  rights  to  their  own  des- 
tination. To  the  US  government,  the 
Nicaraguans'  victory  threatened  the  US 
"superprofit"  in  Central  America. 

If  imperialism  is  the  extension  of  one 
nation's  authority  over  another's  sover- 
eign power,  then,  the  US  reactions  to 
the  Nicaraguans'  victory  are  obviously 
an  impearialist  intervention  in  Central 
America.  Primarily,  hardline  militarism 
was  used.  As  the  Pentagon  and  CIA  have 
stated  consistently  since  July  1979;  the 
US  must  continue  to  supply  weapons  to 
the  rightist  military  regimes  in  Central 
America  in  order  to  avoid  the  "Nicara- 
guanization  of  the  region".  The  US 
moderates  its  action  in  order  to  prevent 
the  spread  of  people's  revolution  in 
the  region.  The  US  reaction  evokes 
memories  of  Johnson's  "domino 
theory"    for  Southeast  Asia   -  isolate 


Nicaragua  to  prevent  the  spread  of 
Communist  revolution  in  other  coun- 
tries in  the  region. 

On  July  4, 1982,  a  Nicaraguan  Air  force 
helicopter  was  fired  on  near  Seven  Bank 
after  the  three  day  fight  with  well  pre- 
pared counter-revolutionaries.  These 
counter-revolutionaries  had  planned  to 
take  over  Puerto  Cabazas  and  the  Tasba 
Pri  resettlement  camp  for  Miskito  In- 
dian, near  Rosita  in  Central  part  of  the 
zone.  After  this  battle,  the  Nicaraguan 
military  captured  weapons,  including: 
new  automatic  rifles;  grenades;  and  in- 
flatable boat;  and,  disposable  rocket 
launchers  -  all  made  in  USA.  The  US 
government  has  not  stopped  its  inter- 
vention in  Nicaragua,  but  its  interven- 
tion has  taken  differnt  forms  (i.e.  sup- 
porting the  counterrevolution). 

An  interview  with  a  congressional 
source  familiar  with  US  plans  in  Central 
America  and  the  Caribbean  indicated 
that  regardless  of  the  Sandinistas' 
accomplishment,  "the  (Reagan)  admin- 
istration hammers  away  at  Nicargua 
because  they  believe  it  is  the  place  'you 
have  got  to  score'  ".  The  US  pretends 
that  once  the  Sandinistas  are  out  of 
power,  the  problem  in  El  Salvador  and 
in  the  region  will  clear  up  itself.  This 
fantasy  in  destabilizing  the  Sandinistas 
clearly  indicates  that  the  US  does  not 
recognize  Nicaraguan  and  Salvadoran 
self-rule.  This  practice  carried  on  by  any 
superpower  is  one  of  the  outstanding 
characteristics  of  imperialism. 

US  intervention  in  Central  America 
stems  not  only  from  the  balancing  of 
US  polictical  power  with  the  Commun- 
ist camp,  but  also  fromt  he  protecting 
of  US  superprofits  in  the  region.  Us 
companies  have  large  investments  in 
Central  America. 

For  example: 

"32  nationally  owned  companies  in 
Guatemala  were  bought  out  by  US 
interests  at   a  cost  of  $24  million. 
Guatemala  was  transformed  into  the 
hub   of  regional  economic  planning 
head    quarters    for   US   agency   for: 
International     Development     (AID) 
Central  American  mission;  the  Cen- 
tral American  Economic  Integration 
System    (SIECA);  and,  the   Central 
American  Monetary  Council." 
In  other  words,  the  US  government  pro- 
tects its  benefits  by  supporting  repres- 
sive dictatorial  regimes. 


27 


OYA  Series,  MOVING  SPIRITS 


NELSON  STEVENS 


28 


The  US  economic  aid  to  El  Salvador  has 
increased  drastically  under  the  Reagan 
Administration.  However,  this  increase 
is  much  to  the  benefit  of  US  firms.  US 
economic  aid  to  El  Salvador  creates  a 
dependent  economic  structure  in  the 
nation.  According  to  Alberto  Bonilla, 
president  of  the  Central  Bank  in  El  Sal- 
vador, without  US  aid  "almost  all  our 
industries  would  stop,  and  we  would 
have  at  least  20%  negative  growth". 
US  corporations  are  the  main  market 
for  Salvadoran  exports  and  are  the  key 
sources  of  need  foreign  exchange.  US 
firms,  such  as  Proctor  and  Gamble,  and 
Hills  Bros.,  purchase  over  one  third  of 
Salvador's  coffee  crop.  Coffee  accounts 
for  70%  of  El  Salvador's  export.  El 
Salvador's  manufactured  goods  are  sent 
to  the  US.  However,  these  manufactur- 
ed goods  are  produced  by  US  garment 
and  electronic  assembly  plants  operating 
in  El  Salvador's  free  trade  zone,  where 
labor  is  cheap  and  profits  are  untaxed. 

Texas  Instruments  and  Datran  are  two 
firms  operating  in  Salvador's  And 
Bartolo  free  trade  zone,  established  in 
1975  in  order  to  encourage  foreign  in- 
vestment. The  firms  pay  Salvadoran 
labour  about  $4  per  day,  or  one-tenth 
of  the  US  wage  for  the  same  work. 
The  Salvadoran  government  plays  a  co- 
operative role  through  restriction  on 
labour  unions  and  wage  freezes.  Other 
US  firms  operating  in  the  same  manner 
in  El  Salvador  are  Kimberly  Clark 
(paper  product  plant),  Phelps  Dodge 
(cooper  product  factory),  Exxon,  Stan- 
dard Oil,  IBM,  Xerox,  Intemation  Har- 
vester, Ralston  Purina,  Bristol  Myers, 
and  others. 

By  the  end  of  1970's,  193  US  compan- 
ies had  taken  advantage  of  the  "favora- 
ble investment  climate"  in  Guatemala: 
52  of  them  are  in  argibusiness;  and  US 
direct  investments  amounted  to  $260 
million  in  Guatemala  alone.  This 
amount  is  the  largest  figure  in  Central 
America.  Also  thirty-three  of  the 
world's  top  hundred  firms  had  establish- 
ed local  operations  in  Guatemala. 

Not  only  does  the  US  government 
directly  support  a  repressive  regime, 
but  US  business  executives  also  openly 
discuss  politics  and  conduct  business 
affairs  with  the  repressive  regime  in 
Guatemala.  Miami  tailored  business  suits 
discussed  with  the  Guatemalan  military 
uniforms  "how  to  eradicate  communism 
and  return  to  the  status  quo  of  the 
1970's."    During    .1970's,    before    the 


Nicagaraguan  revolution,  the  climate  for 
investment  in  Central  America  was  sta- 
ble due  to  the  repression  of  the  native 
population's  voice  and  human  rights. 
The  Bank  of  America's  (BoA)  manager, 
Keith  Parker,  made  an  obvious  state- 
ment in  support  of  dictatorship  in 
Guatemala.  Keith  Parker  stated: 

"Where  we've  got  a  situation  like  you 
have  here,  you  need  the  strongest 
government  you  can  get.  If  you  use 
human  rights  in  a  country  with 
guerillias  (or  from  author's  view 
freedom  fighters),  yoiu're  not  going 
to  get  anywhere  .  .  .  What  they 
should  do  is  declaremartial  law. 
There  you  catch  somebody;  they  go 
to  military  court.  Three  colonels  are 
sitting  there,  you're  guilty,  you're 
shot.  It  works  very  well." 

In  other  words,  the  BoA's  manager  was 
saying  that  human  rights  are  not  applied 
to  people  whose  country  is  politically 
supported  by  the  US  government  and 
economically  exploited  by  US  business. 

BoA  is  the  main  agricultural  lending 
agency  in  Guatemala,  second  only  to 
the  Guatemalan  government  as  a  source 
of  agroexport  capital.  The  BoA's  man- 
ager's statement  clearly  indicates  the 
purposes  of  US  investment  and  involve- 
ment in  the  region:  to  polictcally  eli- 
minate alleged  Communist  expansion; 
and,  to  exploit  natural  as  well  as  human 
resources  of  the  region.  These  purposes 
were  fulfilled  through  suppression  of 
the  Guatemalan'  voice. 

By  its  nature,  a  dictatorial  regime  takes 
over  power  without  the  people's  permis- 
sion. This  fact  needs  to  be  recognized  as 
a  cause  of  each  oppressed  nation's  up- 
rising. What  are  the  alternatives  for  the 
oppressed  Central  American  people  if 
not  a  revolutionary  struggle  to  end  such 
oppression?  Are  there  really  peaceful 
ways  to  end  this  oppression  while  the 
oppressors  are  supporting  "death-squ- 
ads"? The  oppressed  Central  American 
people  have  been  hoping  in  vain  for  gen- 
eration after  generation,  but  they  still 
suffer  unbelievable  oppression.  Are  they 
supposed  to  continue  hoping  in  vain  un- 
til all  of  them  are  eliminated,  and  their 
children,  the  next  generation,  are  train- 
ed to  rebel  aginst  their  own  people? 

The  flow  of  events  in  Central  America 
reaches  its  central  function  when  human 
beings  in  an  attempt  to  raise  their  con- 
sciousness   decide    to    unify   and   fight 


against  any  form  of  oppression.  The 
oppressed  people  have  no  more  time 
to  fight  among  each  other  because  they 
all  have  a  common  enemy,  the  im- 
perialsit  superpower.  The  enemy  must 
be  eliminated  if  people  want  to  see  their 
children  grow  up  with  healthy  concepts. 
It  is  time  for  oppressed  people  to  step 
forward  both  in  consciousness  and  in 
the  struggle  for  better  global  social  con- 
ditions. 

In  order  for  the  US  dominance  in  Cen- 
tral America  to  fully  end,  the  US 
citizens  must  recognize  that  they,  too, 
have  a  great  responsibility  to  work  to- 
ward terminating  US  government's  in- 
tervention in  the  region.  US  imperial- 
ism opposes  the  drive  for  self-determina- 
tion in  Central  America,  and  this 
opposition  continues  only  because  US 
citizens  have  not  recognized  their  re- 
sponsibility to  support  humanitarian 
goals.  US  citizens  are  not  informed  that 
the  Communist  expansion  theory  has 
been  used  in  Central  America  in  the 
same  manner  as  in  the  Viet  Nam  war  20 
years  ago.  In  the  same  manner  as  in 
Viet  Nam  war.  Central  Americans  will 
defeat  the  dictatorship  and  its  support- 
er, the  US  government.  The  US  citizens 
must  be  informed  that  the  so-called 
"Communists"  are  the  native  people, 
who  will  tolerate  neither  the  local 
capitalist  bourgeoisie  nor  US  imperialist 
intervention. 

US  imperialist  intervention  and  its  op- 
pression will  have,  in  the  long  run,  a 
great  effect  on  the  US's  relationship  to 
other  countries.  US  destructive  policies 
prevent  mutual  intemation  trust,  and, 
before  long,  there  will  be  furious  con- 
frontations as  a  result  of  imperalistic 
degrading  foreign  policies.  The  US 
actions  in  Central  America  undoubted- 
ly indicate  a  pattern  of  imperialsim.  The 
US  foreign  policy  is  not  a  friendly 
policy  toward  the  Central  American 
countries.  Only  unity  between  citizens 
of  both  Central  America  and  the  US  will 
change  the  course  of  the  imperialist 
oppression  in  Central  America.  The 
Central  American  war  is  a  war  to  regain 
self-determination,  not  a  war  to  desta- 
blize  US  position  in  the  world.  Self- 
determination  is  an  important  political 
element  of  each  independent  nation, 
including  the  US  itself.  Thus,  the  war  in 
Central  America  is  significant  to  each 
nation  in  the  region.  It  is  a  war  that  will 
determine  the  pattern  of  US  interaction 
with  all  the  Third  World  countries. 


29 


continued  from  page  23 


means  that  years  of  television 
has  shortened  my  attention 
span.  So  all  at  once  teachers 
are  going  to  have  to  teach 
students  with  shorter  attention 
spans. 

DRUM  -  In  your  beliefs  about  vege- 
terianism  and  fasting,  especial- 
ly, I  was  wondering  if  you  were 
influenced  by  the  teachings  of 
Ghandi?  or  is  it  common 
sense? 

DICK  -  Not  really,  Ghandi  never  fasted 
for  more  than  thirteen  days. 
Ghandi's  life  never  changed  un- 
til he  became  aware  of  the 
energy  flows  of  the  body  and 
then  things  started  making  a 
difference  in  his  life. 

DRUM  -  How  did  you  come  about 
with  these  ideas? 

DICK  -  I  became  a  vegetarian  because 
I  was  in  the  movement,  and  if 
I'm  dedicated  to  nonviolence 
how  can  I  participate  in  the  de- 
struction of  animals  for  my 
dinner.  I  didn't  know  anything 
about  fasting.  I  decided  on  a 
four-day  fast  to  protest  the  war 
in  Vietnam.  Through  the 
years,  I've  met  with  many  doc- 
tors and  now  I'm  extremely 
good  at  it.  It's  common  sense.  I 
mean  if  you  go  to  the  hospital, 
the  meat  eaters  don't  send  you 
a  basket  of  steaks,  they  send 
you  a  basket  of  fruit.  So  if 
fruit  is  so  good  for  you  after 
you  get  sick  just  think  what  it 
would  if  you  had  enough  sense 
to  eat  it  before  you  get  sick. 

DRUM  -  How  will  Jesse  Jackson's 
campaign  affect  political  ap- 
athy? 

DICK  -  He  is  doing  more  than  that.  He 
is  exciting  them.  He  is  talking 
about  something  more  than 
just  the  hardline  game.  The  im- 
portant thing  is  that  he  is  not 
one  of  them.  The  others  can 
do  it  with  money  and  the 
media.  Jesse's  got  to  do  it  on 
his  wits.  Jesse's  letting  people 
get  really  involved  in  the  cam- 
paign -  they're  getting  a  feel  for 
politics.  Until  the  sixties  came 
around,  most  people  on  college 
campuses  believed  everything 
the  police  said.  But  when  you 
see  the  tear  gas  and  the  club- 
bings, all  at  once  things  change. 
All   at  once  there  was  a  new 


world  in  our  vocabularly 
"blue  flue".  All  at  once  there 
were  no  "support  your  local 
police"  bumperstickers.  No- 
body ever  told  anybody  to  do 
it,  but  as  you  get  exposed  to 
things,  your  life  starts  chang- 
ing. So  I'm  saying  that  Jesse's 
candidacy  sounds  good,  it  feels 
good  and  people  will  go  out 
and  register.  Listening  to  that 
same  old  bunch  of  cats  talk- 
ing the  same  old  garbage  don't 
make  you  want  to  do  anything. 
Now  the  Coalition  wants  that 
huge  segment  of  people  to  get 
registered  because  Jesse's  com- 
ing through.  It's  going  to  be 
more  than  that  because  now  I 
get  to  participate  more  in  the 
share. 

DRUM  -  Let's  say  you  were  running 
for  president  in  1984.  You're 
against  Ronnie.  What  would 
you  do  to  change  the  system? 

DICK  -  First  off  I  would  tell  most 
Americans  to  be  careful  in  vot- 
ing for  me.  I  would  run  to  say 
that  we  would  wipe  out  wars, 
hunger,  sickness,  and  racism. 
But  I  would  say  to  be  careful 
before  you  vote  for  me.  One  of 
the  first  things  I'd  do  before 
I'd  deal  with  all  the  other 
crazies  is  tell  the  Mafia  and  the 
CIA  that  we  couldn't  peaceful- 
ly coexist.  I'd  give  them 
twentyfour  hours  to  eigher  get 
out  or  kill  me.  Then  I  would 
tell  the  churches  not  to  vote 
for  me  because  I'd  take  away 
their  tax  exempt  status.  I'd 
say  to  them,  "Either  y'all  are 
in  the  spiritual  business  or  real 
estate.  If  y'all  are  in  the  estate 
business,  I'm  going  to  tax  you 
the  same  as  I  do  that  steel 
worker  over  there."  I'd  tell  all 
these  folks  who  like  al  little 
reefer  and  cocaine  not  to  vote 
for  me.  With  me  reefers  and  co- 
caine would  not  be  tolerated. 
I  wouldn't  tolerate  whiskey.  I 
would  not  tolerate  anything 
that  destroys  and  brings  a  na- 
tion to  its  knees.  I'd  put  the 
tobacco  industry  out  of  bus- 
ness.  How  in  the  world  can  a 
country  that  calls  itself  a  ligiti- 
mate,  humane  country,  pro- 
mote something  that  is  known 
to   kill  its  citizens.  I  mean  it 


don't    make    no    sense    in    no 
shape,  form  or  fashion.  I'd  tell 
all  the  tobacco  people,  "We  are 
going  to  grow  grain  and  stuff 
to  feed  a  hungry  world."  I'll 
make  them  all  more  money  do- 
ing that  than  we  would  make 
doing  the  other.  You  just  total- 
ly change  it  around.  We're  go- 
ing to  have  two  armies.  We  are 
going  to  have  this  crazy  army 
over  here  and  this  other  army 
to    see    to    it    that    we    never 
use  it.  We  will  go  around  the 
world  and  we'll  use  these  fleets 
we've   got   as  hospitals.  We're 
going  to  show  people  how  to 
plant,    we're    going    to    show 
them  how  to  make  their  own 
lives    different.    Then    maybe 
things    will    start    changing.    I 
mean  people  are  afraid.  We  got 
into  this  nuclear  mess  by  peo- 
ple   being    afraid.   Now  we've 
got  it  and  we've  got  to  think 
of  a  way  to  diffuse  it.  If  you 
broke     all    this    stuff    down, 
where    are    we   gonna  put   all 
the  v/aste?  These  are  the  pro- 
grams   we've    all    got   to   start 
working  on. 
DRUM  -  In  your  writings  you  men- 
tioned  "the  price  one  has  to 
pay    for    freedom".    What    do 
you    think    that    price,    your 
identy? 
DICK  -  It  depends  on  you,  how  much 
drugs  you  have  in  your  body, 
your  fear.  A  free  man  or  a  free 
woman    is    a   person   with   no 
fear.  Anything  you  fear  in  life, 
you    are    enslave    to.    If   you 
speed   you   fear  the  cops   are 
chasing  you.  See,  you  are  en- 
slaved to  the  cops,  so  what  you 
do    is    stop    speeding.    If  you 
fear  getting  caught  with  reefer 
you  are  enslaved  to  reefers.  A 
free  person  is  a  person  with  no 
fear  and  everywhere  you  have 
fear    shows     enslavement.     If 
you're  scared  of  dogs  you  are 
enslaved    to    dogs.    If    you're 
messing  around  with  my  wife 
and     are     scared     of    getting 
caught,  you  are  my  slave.  It's 
just  a  simple  thing.  Whatever 
price  your  integrity  is  ,  is  what 
price  you  want  to   pay  to  be 
free   and  is  a  simple  price  to 

pay. 
DRUM  -  Thank  you  Dick  Gregory. 


30 


AN    INTERVIEW  WITH 

TONY  BATTEN 


Anthony  Batten,  motion  picture 
director,  was  born  August  17, 1935  in 
New  York  City.  He  attended  the  Col- 
lege of  Arts  of  New  York,  the  Univer- 
sity of  Xalayor  (Mexico),  the  San 
Francisco  Art  Institute,  San  Francisco 
State  College,  and  the  University  of 
California  at  Berkley.  Currently,  he  is 
founder  and  president  of  Tony  Batten 
Productions  which  was  formed  in 
1980.  Mr.  Batten's  work  in  film  and 
television  is  both  uncompromising  and 
probing  in  nature.  He  has  produced, 
written,  and  directed  programs  for  the 
ABC  "Close  Up  Series"  in  addition  to 
hosting  that  series  from  1974  until 
1976.  Under  Mr.  Batten's  direction, 
the  first  profile  of  Paul  Robeson  was 
produced.  Batten's  documentaries 
have  covered  such  diverse  topics  as: 
East  Africa  in  "Ends  and  Beginnings" 
(1969),  street  gangs  in  the  South 
Bronx  in  "Ain't  Gonna  Eat  My  Mind" 
(1972),  prison  revolts  in  "Bedlam  in 
the  Jails"  (1970),  and  labor  disputes  in 
"The  Toughest  Labor  Game  in  Town" 
(1971).  Mr.  Batten  is  an  accomplished 
photographer.  His  photographs  have 
appeared  in  such  notable  publications 


as:  The  Liberator,  New  York  Sunday 
Magazine  and  the  Washington  Post.  He 
is  the  New  England  Regional  Chairman 
of  the  National  Association  of  Black 
Media  Production  which  was  founded 
in  1969.  He  belongs  to  the  following 
media      organizations:      New      York 
Academy     of    Television     Arts     and 
Science,     International     Center     for 
Photography,      Directors     Guild     of 
America,     American     Federation     of 
Television  and  Radio  Artists  and  Writ- 
ers  Guild   of  America.    He   has  been 
awarded  an  Emmy  for  the  Documen- 
tary   "Ain't    Gonna    Eat    My    Mind" 
(1972),  a  Du  Pont  award  for  the  ABC 
Close  Up  show  "New  Religions:  Holi- 
ness  or  Heresay"   (1972   and  1978), 
and   induction   into   the  Black   Film- 
makers' Hall  of  Fame  in  1976. 
DRUM  -  As  a  Black  director  and  pro- 
ducer, what  obstacles,  if  any, 
have   you  faced  and  how  has 
this  affected  you  work? 
BATTEN  -  Obviously,  the  obstacle  is 
a  racist  society,  which  means 
you're  dealing  with  deception. 
Anybody  that  has  to  deal  with 
images    must.    You've    got    to 


by  Richard  Thorpe 

translate  images  which  many 
people  might  see  in  the  context 
of  racism  and  if  you  see  im- 
ages in  the  context  of  racism 
and  those  images,  or  your  per- 
ceptions of  them,  are  viewed 
by  the  total  society  and  if 
racism  is  systematic  to  that 
society,  then  you  have  diffi- 
culty in  communicating  or 
demonstrating  or  filming  or 
presenting  something  in  terms 
of  your  own  reality.  Probably 
after  that,  the  other  obstacles 
are:  limited  job  opportunities, 
limited  financing  and  capital 
and  limited  interest  in  things 
that  a  Black  person  might  be 
interested  in.  For  expamle,  it's 
pretty  clear  to  anybody  watch- 
ing the  Twenty-Fifth  Anniver- 
sary of  Motown  television 
special  that  that  was  terrific 
entertainment.  It  was  cross- 
cultural,  it  certainly  appealed 
to  an  enormous  audience  and 
the  aestics  were  quite  good. 
When  you  think  that  there  is 
nothing  like  that  on  television 


31 


on  a  regular  basis,  then  you 
understand  the  nature  of 
racism  in  the  society.  You  see 
all  kinds  of  programming  in 
America  but  there  are  just 
limited  ways  for  Blacks  in  the 
entertainment  field  to  be  in- 
volved in  television. 

DRUM  -  You  were  talking  about  Paul 
Robeson,  you  had  profiled 
him.  He  was  banned  from  tele- 
vision during  the  1950's.  Are 
there  any  other  examples  of 
prominent  Black  figures  being 
banned  form  television? 

BATTEN  -  Well,  I  would  say  that  all 
prominent  Blacks  were  banned 
from  television.  They  just 
weren't  on.  When  was  the  last 
time  you  saw  Wilson  Pickett  on 
TV?  Is  he  still  there?  You 
know  what  I  mean? 

DRUM  -  I  mean  a  leader  of  Robeson's 
stature,  someone  who  was  as 
outspoken  as  he. 

BATTEN  -  I  don't  think  that  Martin 
Luther  King  or  Paul  Robeson 
or  anybody  that  had  some- 
thing to  say  was  on  television 
or  radio  often,  unless  it  was 
perceived  by  the  media  that 
this  was  an  interest  of  a  sensa- 
tional sort.  When  Malcolm  was 
talking  "hate  whitey"  and  that 
kind  of  philosophy,  he  was  on 
television  a  lot  because  he 
made  people  angry;  he  was  sen- 
sational and  you  could  see  him 
on  the  six  o'clock  news.  When 
he  came  back  from  his  pilgrim- 
age and  began  talking  about 
Muslims  of  all  different  colors, 
he  was  on  TV  once  a  month. 
So  I  think  the  question  you're 
asking  -  whether  there's  some- 
one else  besides  Paul  Robeson 
who  was  banned  from  tele- 
vision -  is  sort  of  begging 
the  question.  Frankly,  Blacks 
who  have  anything  worthwhile 
to  say  are  generally  banned 
from  TV  I  think  the  question 
ought  to  be,  "Who  was  on?" 
Then  you  find  that  there's  a 
paucity  of  people  --  people  just 
weren't  on.  They  don't  get  a 
chance  to  speak  to  the  issues; 
certainly  that  was  true  up  until 
the  time  of  the  Watts  riots; 
then  there  was  some  attempt 
to    find    minorities    more    op- 


portunity in  the  media.  I  think 
it's  pretty  clear  that  minority 
statements  on  TV  occur  far  less 
in  1983  than  they  did  in  1963 
and  1964.  That's  just  a  matter 
of  public  record.  The  problem 
is  that  a  lot  of  people  who  are 
glued  to  the  TV  are  never  glued 
to  anything  else.  They  don't 
understand  any  historian  be- 
cause they  don't  understand 
any  history,  then  one  is  bound 
to  repeat  it."  In  the  case  of 
Black  people,  we  not  only  do 
not  learn  from  our  history,  we 
don't  even  know  our  history; 
that  is  a  major  problem  in  the 
Black  community.  Frankly, 
maybe  we  deserve  what  we  get. 
We  certainly  aren't  making  any 
strides  in  those  terms  -  not  at 
all.  It's  just  unfortunate.  It  just 
shows,  in  a  way,  that  as  much 
as  Black  people  would  like  to 
be  special,  because  every  min- 
ority group  yearns  for  special 
status,  that  we  are  erasing  our 
specialness  which  is  interesting 
and  powerful.  But  to  answer 
your  question,  I  think  most 
prominent  Black  people  in  the 
50's,  60's  and  70's,  are  pretty 
much  banned  from  TV. 

DRUM  -  Just  adding  to  that,  if  Blacks 
have  been  excluded  from  tele- 
vision, how  can  they  truly  re- 
present themselves? 

BATTEN  -  By  organizing  politically; 
that's  what  they  can  do.  They 
can  set  goals  and  work  dilig- 
ently towards  them.  But  that 
means  they've  got  to  give  up 
something.  They've  got  to  de- 
vote energy.  They've  got  to  be 
constant.  They've  got  to  learn 
how  to  read.  They  have  to  do  a 
whole  lot  of  boring  things 
which  will  help  each  individual 
as  well  as  the  whole  group.  But 
it  ain't  gonna  be  about  Jeri 
curls  and  boogying.  They  can 
influence  TV  and  radio  sta- 
tions. They  can  challenge  licen- 
ces but  those  processes  are  long 
and  drawn  out  and  they  re- 
quire determination  and  pat- 
ience, sacrifice,  intelligence  and 
postponement  of  gratification. 
One  of  our  biggest  problems 
may  be  that  we've  been  denied 
stuff   for   so  long.   There   are 


just  too  many  of  us  who  grab 
what  we  can  grab. 

DRUM  -  You're  saying  that  the  media 
can  have  a  positive  effect  on 
Black  people  in  helping  to 
organize? 

BATTEN  -  What  I'm  saying  is  that 
Black  people  have  to  leam  to 
organize  in  order  to  influence 
the  media,  that's  what  they 
have  to  learn  to  do.  We  don't 
have  anything  in  this  society 
except  the  ability  to  rap  and 
the  ability  to  lay  down  some 
"riff"  on  an  instrument  and 
to  make  poetry  that  soars. 
We  need  more  than  that  to 
get  by.  We've  got  to  be  able  to 
organize  and  to  more  or  less 
know  what  objectives  we  need 
in  order  to  manipulate  the 
society  to  our  benefit.  Other 
groups  have  done  that.  I  don't 
know  what  it's  like  in  the 
community  of  Boston  or  any 
other  city,  but  if  a  community 
is  anything  like  Manhattan,  I 
bet  you  there  are  several 
minority  groups  that  operate 
small  continuing  businesses. 
Despite  the  fact  that  small 
businesses  are  being  jeopardiz- 
ed by  the  economy,  I  know 
that  in  the  community  of  Man- 
hattan, I  see  Korean  small  busi- 
nesses, and  Hispanic  small  busi- 
nesses. Those  people  who  are 
operating  those  small  business- 
es get  up  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  go  get  their 
vegetables.  A  lot  of  those  peo- 
ple work  long  hours.  They  have 
family  businesses  and  they 
don't  get  much  out  of  that. 
What  they  get  is  a  little  money 
to  send  their  kids  to  college 
with  so  that  they  can  do  some- 
thing else  besides  selling  grocer- 
ies. The  basis  of  survival  in 
capitalistic  economy  is  the 
maintenance  of  the  small  busi- 
ness -  the  small  bourgeois 
business.  Until  Blacks  are  ready 
to  get  up  at  four  in  the  morn- 
ing to  get  their  vegetables,  they 
can't  do  that.  Until  they're 
really  ready  to  identify  objec- 
tives in  terms  of  the  media  or 
get  television  to  act  right  or 
get  out  and  picket  and  shut 
places  down,  they  ain't  going 


32 


to  get  nothing.  They're  going 
to  be  satisfied  with  the  Jeffer- 
sons;  they're  going  to  be  satis- 
fied with  the  little  boy  clone 
that  is  now  on  TV.  We  just 
don't  have  enough  energy  to 
make  it  any  different. 

DRUM  -  Tony  Brown  said  something 
similar  when  he  visited  UMass. 
He  said,  "Black  folks  spend 
their  money  in  a  180  degree 
circle  instead  of  having  money 
pass  through  their  hands  only 
eight  different  times  before 
it  leaves  the  community.  As 
soon  as  they  get  it,  they  spend 
it  and  it  goes  right  back  into 
White  society.  It  goes  into  their 
pockets  and  right  back  out  of 
it."  Why? 

BATTEN  -  Well,  obviously  that  does 
not  make  much  sense  for  it  to 
do  that,  but,  if  on  the  other 
hand,  it  stays  in  the  commun- 
ity and  it  passes  through  a 
dozen  hands  and  those  dozen 
hands  don't  amount  to  any- 
thing more  than  the  mainten- 
ance of  a  beer  company  or  the 
maintenance  of  a  "SNACK" 
society  or  the  maintenance  of 
the  number  man  or  the  main- 
tenance of  a  dream  book  or  the 
maintenance  of  a  forty  dollar 
pair  of  sneakers  or  the  main- 
tenance of  shck  shoes  then, 
hey  man,  it  might  as  well  go 
back  to  the  White  community. 
Because  it  ain't  doing  any  good 
in  the  Black  community.  It's 
not  just  buying  Black  that's 
important.  What  is  important  is 
to  buy  Black  in  such  a  way 
that  Black  people,  the  person 
that  buys  and  the  person  that 
sells,  advance  at  the  same  time 
-  that's  what's  important.  So 
that  means  that  we  can't  be 
blinded  simply  by  color  be- 
cause that's  a  trap;  that's  just 
a  trap.  And  I'm  not  saying  that 
a  Black  person  should  take  his 
or  her  hard  earned  money  and 
go  plunk  it  down  in  a  small 
Black  store  that  does  not  both- 
er to  clean  its  shelves  or  does 
not  bother  to  keep  any  articles 
in  there  or  doesn't  bother  to 
maintain  itself  and  its  store 
front.  If  that  is  the  case,  then 
go  buy   from  the  Korean  be- 


cause at  least  they  pick  the 
dead  leaves  off  the  lettuce.  So 
I  mean.  Black  people  have  to 
be  able  to  compete  on  what- 
ever level  they're  operating  on. 
I  live  in  a  community  where 
there  is  a  chicken  and  rib  fran- 
chise joint.  Now  the  first  per- 
son to  have  that  franchise  was 
a  Black  person  but  that  person 
was  so  busy  grandstanding  and 
showboating  because  they  had 
a  franchise  that  meant  that 
they  could  suddenly  get  white 
walls  for  their  Mercedes  and 
ain't  nothin'  the  matter  with  a 
Mercedes  except  that  dude 
doesn't  have  the  franchise  any- 
more. Afghan  people  have  the 
franchise  and  they've  got  three 
shifts  of  their  families  in  that 
franchise  and  Balck  people  are 
lining  up  in  the  other  side  of 
the  plexiglass,  bulletproof  wall 
plunkin'  down  their  money  for 
Afghan  chicken  and  carrying 
out  paper  bags.  That's  what 
I'm  talking  about.  We  all  know 
what  it's  about.  We  can  all 
rationalize,  we  can  always 
blame  people  but  come  on, 
there's  always  been  a  joke  that 
you  can't  get  the  same  kind 
of  service  in  the  Black  com- 
munity that  you  get  some 
place  else.  To  a  large  extent, 
that  may  be  true.  Why  that  is 
true,  I  don't  know.  I  don't 
know  why  we  get  so  much 
poor  service.  But  those  are  not 
the  basic  issues  except  that  it 
is  a  modality  for  us  that  we 
have  to  suffer  from.  So,  when 
you  ask  me  what  kinds  of 
obstacles  I've  had  to  face  as  a 
Black  director  and  a  Black  pro- 
ducer, sure  I've  had  to  face  the 
obvious  kinds  of  obstacles  that 
a  Black  person  would  have  to 
face  in  a  racist  society,  but  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I've  never 
really  had  active  Black  support. 
I've  never  had  that.  I  mean,  I'm 
on  the  air  in  your  community 
(Amherst).  I  used  to  be  on  the 
air  every  day,  now  I  under- 
stand, I'm  on  the  air  only  on 
the  weekends.  I  call  the  sta- 
tions up.  I  know  people  in 
your  community  that  don't 
even  know  the  call  letters  of 


the  stations  that  they  listen  to. 
So,  how  in  the  hell  can  a  per- 
son like  me,  who  depends  on 
community  support,  how  can 
I  expect  it  when  the  folks  who 
listen  and  .  say  they  like  it, 
don't  even  know  the  call  let- 
ters. Don't  know  where  to  find 
the  damn  thing  on  the  radio 
and  don't  know  the  first  thing 
about  providing  a  letter  to  a 
station  in  Albany,  NY  and  say- 
ing, "Hey,  how  come  the  act's 
off  the  air?" 

DRUM  -  I  understand  that.  That's  the 
sort  of  thing  that  curtials  you 
when  people  aren't  aware  of 
these  thing.  They're  not  intelli- 
gent enough  to  know  that 
when  they  call  up  a  station 
they  need  to  know  what  the 
call  letters  are 

BATTEN  -  Well,  let  me  point  some- 
thing out,  and  I'm  not  going  to 
specify  the  minority  groups 
that  I'm  talking  about  but  I 
think  it  ought  to  be  pretty 
clear  to  anybody  that  there  are 
other  minority  groups  with  far 
fewer  numbers  than  Black  peo- 
ple that  have  far  more  influ- 
ence. They  know  how  to  do 
that  and  as  long  as  we  wait  and 
remain  ignorant,  as  long  as  we 
want  to  go  for  the  admiral 
hat  and  the  uniform  and  the 
sword  by  the  side,  we  ain't 
gonna  do  nothing.  And  sure 
we're  going  to  foreswear  the 
pointed  letter,  we're  going  to 
foreswear  some  sort  of  pressure 
politics,  because  we  don't  have 
the  long-lasting  energy,  we 
don't  have  the  determination, 
we  don't  have  the  heart  to  do 
it.  And  in  a  way,  people  like 
me  get  kicked  off  the  air,  but, 
hey  man,  we're  going  to 
bounce  back.  We're  going  to 
come  back  some  other  place. 
And  I'll  just  say  I'm  sort  of 
tired  of  just  wondering  when 
the  people  are  going  to  say, 
"Batten  needs  some  help,  why 
don't  we  help  him  out."  Be- 
cause all  they  need  to  do  is 
turn  on  the  radio  and  boogie. 
And  when  it's  gone,  they 
accept  the  fact  that  it's  gone. 
Why?  like  a  guy  said,  "We've 
been  down  so  long,  we  don't 


33 


even  know  where  up  is." 
DRUM  -  You  touched  upon  your  radio 
show  and  the  fact  that  you're 
not  on  as  much  as  in  the  past. 
Could  you  describe  the  types 
of  things  that  are  on  the  show 
and  what  things  have  to  go  into 
the  making  of  the  show? 
BATTEN  -  It  is  a  very  simple  broad- 
cast. It's  simple  because  there 
is  an  underlying  sensibility 
about  the  music.  It  is  a  disc 
show,  it  focused  on  jazz  and  it 
is  very  clear  that  the  underly- 
ing sensibility  of  the  program, 
certainly  the  person  making 
the  program  belives  that  some 
of  America's  classiest  music  is 
what  the  broadcast  might  be 
talking  about  -  Black  music  ~ 
because  that's  what  jazz  is. 
Now,  if  that  is  the  case,  then 
there  needs  to  be  some  subtle 
understanding  of  the  political 
nature  of  the  broadcast. 
Secondly,  it  has  a  very  wide 
choice  of  selection  of  material. 
I  play  anything  that  is  or  has 
been  important  from  1926  or 
so  right  down  to  the  present. 
So,  let's  say  that  it's  1923,  just 
to  make  our  addition  easy. 
We're  talking  about  sixty  years 
of  Black  music.  Now,  I  don't 
know  where  else  on  the  radio 
dial  anybody  can  find  a  range 
of  80  years  of  Black  music  that 
they  can  enjoy  and  is  presented 
in  what  I  think  is  a  profes- 
sional manner  or  way.  It  seems 
to  me  that  that  might  be  a  kind 
of  broadcast  treasure.  But 
again,  it's  a  lot  easier  for 
people  to  listen  to  whatever 
"breakdance"  is  happening, 
and  listen,  hey,  I've  got  noth- 
ing agciinst  Lionel  Ritchie, 
believe  me.  If  you  listen  to 
Ritchie  and  the  stations  that 
give  you  the  kind  of  consistent 
hum  drum,  then  I  don't  want 
the  scholars  or  the  students  in 
the  university,  particularly  the 
Black  ones,  to  be  saluting  no 
Black  flag,  no  Afro-American 
thing  or  none  of  that  because 
they  are  constantly  narrowing 
down  their  sensibilities;  they 
are  constantly  narrowing  down 
their  brain  to  deal  primarily 
with   what   the  hucksters,  the 


narrowist.  Black  music  gives 
them.  And  that's  what  they 
accept,  that's  what  they  like, 
that's  what  they  groove  behind 
because  they're  too  politically 
lazy  to  understand  something 
else  and  too  emotionally  in- 
secure to  venture  out  from  the 
bass  beat  of  the  drum  to  some 
other  kind  of  more  complex 
sensibility  that  might  be  an 
Archie  Shepp,  might  be  a  Nat 
Cole,  might  be  a  George  Kirby, 
a  Charlie  Parker  or  a  Lester 
Young  but  they  ain't  doing 
that.  They're  with  Kool  and 
the  Gang. 

DRUM  -  What  advice  would  you  have 
for  a  Black  person  who  serious- 
ly wants  to  get  into  video  such 
as  yourself? 

BATTEN  -  To  learn  to  think.  I'm 
serious.  What  do  you  want  me 
to  say?  Get  a  job,  go  to  school? 
No,  that  ain't  it.  You  want  to 
go  to  school,  to  learn  how  to 
operate  a  camera,  you  want  to 
join  a  union  to  get  a  job,  fine, 
terrifc.  I'm  always  happy  when 
I  learn  about  or  read  or  see 
Black  people  who  have  gainful 
employment  and  are  not  stand- 
ing around  on  the  corner  not 
knowing  what  to  do  and  being 
mixed  up  about  racism  and 
drugs.  I  think  it's  an  enormous 
achievement  for  any  Black  per- 
son to  get  a  toe-hold  on  the 
society,  to  get  a  job  and  to  do 
the  things  necessary  to  hold 
that  job  and  to  perform  and 
function  at  their  best.  How- 
ever, having  said  that,  finally, 
one  is  only  doing  what  every- 
body else  is  doing.  Black  peo- 
ple have  a  greater  need;  we 
have  a  greater  responsibility  to 
ourselves.  I  mean,  what  is  that? 
We  cannot  afford  to  spend  the 
majority  of  our  time  glued  to 
some  dumb  television  set  with 
some  beer  in  our  hand.  We 
have  a  bigger  responsibility, 
which  means  to  the  extent 
that  we  have  some  free  time, 
we  got  to  use  that  free  time  to 
"move  our  stuff."  You  know, 
maybe  it  means  "moving"  on 
ourselves.  Maybe  it's  learning 
something;  it  means  learning 
how  to  do  something.  Do  you 


know  that  in  the  national 
Black  community  that  some- 
thing like  25%  of  the  land  we 
used  to  own  in  1951  has  been 
lost?  Now,  how  many  people 
who  are  reading  this  or  your 
magazine  (Drum)  know  the 
first  f— ing  thing  about  groviang 
their  own  coUard  greens? 

DRUM  -  I  didn't  know  that  the  land 
lost  was  quite  so  high. 

BATTEN  -  As  the  total  land  held  by 
Black  people  gets  smaller,  the 
percentage  of  loss  gets  larger. 
Now,  that's  a  mathematics 
truism.  If  you  lose  half  an  acre 
and  you  only  have  an  acre, 
then  you  lost  fifty  percent  of 
your  land. 

DRUM  -  Are  these  the  types  of  things 
that  Black  people  getting  into 
the  mass  media  need  to  know 
about  and  inform  others  about 
to  produce  change? 

BATTEN  -  Well,  I  don't  think  it  has 
to  be  that  complicated,  that 
comples  or  abstract.  I  think  it 
could  be  simple.  Let  me  ask  a 
question,  thetorically,  to  any- 
body, "How  many  of  you  read- 
ing this,  read  a  bonified  news- 
paper everyday?  How  many 
of  you  read  a  news  magazine 
every  week?  How  many  of  you 
bother  to  question  the  news,  if 
you  look  at  the  news  or  tele- 
vision? How  many  people 
bother  to  question  that  serious- 
ly, and  to  really  try  to  under- 
stand and  to  find  out  the 
answer."  I'm  not  saying  that 
it's  got  to  be  as  complex  as 
learning  how  to  grow  some 
collard  greens.  What  I  am  say- 
ing is  it  has  to  be  as  comples 
as  learning  how  to  read  and 
develop  strategies  for  getting 
true  information  in  a  racist 
society  and  until  we  can  do 
that,  then  hey,  I  think  we're 
standing  up  in  line  waiting  to 

be  lynched volunteering 

for  it. 

DRUM  -  I  didn't  mean  it  had  to  be  as 
complicated  as  that.  Maybe 
just  as  simple  as  "Each  one 
teach  one."  If  you  have  some 
knowledge  about  something, 
you  just  pass  it  on. 

BATTEN  -  I  think  that's  a  good  idea, 
too.   I  think  that's  wonderful 


34 


slogan,  "Each  one  teach  one." 

DRUM  -  In  a  serious  manner. 

BATTEN  -  Yeah,  and  it's  serious.  But 
I  think  a  whole  lot  of  people 
know  that  slogan  and  don't 
live  by  it.  I  think  a  lot  of 
people  know  that  slogan  and 
don't  have  the  where-with-all 
to  be  anything  to  anybody.  So, 
when  I  said  earlier  that  we  are 
a  race  of  poets,  that  is  part  of 
what  I  mean.  There's  a  lot  of 
poetic  energy  taking  place  in 
the  barber  shop,  on  the  street 
corner,  in  the  chruch.  Those 
things  are  quite  valuable  and 
they  go  a  long  way  into  help- 
ing our  community  survive. 
But  it's  isolating  and  if  the 
only  way  that  we  understand 
or  can  learn  the  weaknesses 
of  our  energy  is  by  working 
in  their  kitchen,  then  I  guess 
what  I'm  saying  is  we've  got 
to  develop  other  kinds  of 
strategies  so  that  we're  not 
always  bound  to  the  kitchen. 
That's  all  I'm  saying. 

DRUM  -  One  of  your  documentaries 
seems  to  stand  out  -  "Ain't 
Gonna  Eat  my  Mind."  What 
was  it  all  about  and  could  you 
describe  it? 

BATTEN  -  "Ain't  Gonna  Eat  My 
Mind"  is  a  kind  of  statement,  a 
slogan,  that  a  lot  of  Hispanic 
gang  kids  used  to  use  in  the 
early  1960's,  the  late  1950's 
and  the  early  1960 's.  They 
would  look  at  a  cop,  they 
would  look  at  a  teacher,  they 
would  look  at  an  authority 
figure,  and  they  would  reject 
the  bullshit  of  that  authority 
figure  by  saying,  "You  ain't 
gonna  eat  my  mind— not  with 
that."  I  used  that,  "Ain't 
Gonna  Eat  My  Mind"  as  the 
title,  a  profile  of  one  gang 
family  in  south  Bronx  and  the 
program  was  in  two  protions. 
One  portion  was  a  half-hour 
filmed  documentary,  the  other 
portion  was  a  one  hour  studio 
confrontation  between  the 
leaders  of  this  gang  family 
from  the  United  States,  but 
was  an  English-speaking  per- 
son. At  a  certain  point  in  the 
program,  when  the  argument 
was  getting  quite  heated,  this 


host  looked  at  these  guys,  who 
were  dressed  in  denim  cut-off 
jackets  with  studs  and  what 
they  call  their  "colors,"  looked 
at  one  of  these  guys  and  said, 
"I'm  in  costume  for  the  same 
reason  that  you  are  in  costume, 
I  got  my  war  costume  on.  Now 
I  am  presuming  that  you  have 
your  war  costume  on  too,  be- 
cause you  msut  know  that 
there's  a  war  out  here  on  the 
streets."  And  he  looked  at  this 
guy,  who  was  dressed  in  a  tur- 
tleneck  sweater,  sports  coat 
and  a  very  kind  of  collegiate 
dress  and  said,  "But  on  second 
thought,  you  msut  not  know 
that  there's  war  out  here  on 
the  streets,  because  if  you  went 
to  war  in  the  street  with  the 
costume  you  got  on,  you 
wouldn't  last  a  second!  But 
what  I  want  to  say  is  that  we 
both  got  our  costumes  on.  I'm 
just  wondering  whether  yours 
is  as  appropriate  to  your  place 
as  mine  is  to  mine."  When  kids 
of  that  kind  are  able  to  muster 
those  sorts  of  sensibilities  and 
analyse  society  in  the  way  that 
they  did,  I  think  that  in  a  way 
"Ain't  Gonna  Eat  My  Mind" 
is  as  valid  a  poetic  statement 
and  as  valid  a  proposition  and 
as  valid  a  kind  of  slogan  to 
live  by  as  "For  God  and 
Country." 

DRUM  -  That's  almost  like  the  slogan, 
"You  bled  my  mama,  you  bled 
my  papa,,  but  you're  not  gonna 
bleed  me." 

BATTEN  -  Right. 

DRUM  -  Do  you  view  yourself  more  as 
a  producer,  director  or  photo- 
grapher. Which  one  do  you  pre- 
fer, if  any? 

BATTEN  -  I  view  myself  essentially  as 
a  complete  artist.  I  have  to  use 
different  tools  at  my  disposal. 
The  tools  I  chose  to  use  are 
tools  which  are  made  avialiable 
to  me  because  I  have  some  way 
of  making  money  or  earning  a 
living  by  doing  it.  If  I  were  to 
be  as  specific  as  I  could  be,  I 
would  have  to  avoid  all  of  the 
words  you  just  used  and  just 
say  that  I  consider  myself  more 
as  an  author  of  films  and  tele- 
vision and  radio  shows  because 


I  write  them,  I  produce  them. 
DRUM  -  What  is  your  favorite  work? 
BATTEN    -    "The    Robeson   Profile," 

without  a  question. 

DRUM  -  Why  is  that? 

BATTEN  -  I  think  the  finest  thing  an 
artist  can  do  is  to  celebrate  the 
finest  person  that  the  artist 
knows.  And  for  me,  I  think  I 
was  very  fortunate.  I  was  very 
fortunate  because  since  Robe- 
son had  been  excluded  from 
American  television,  it  was 
possible  for  me  to  give  Black 
people,  at  least  the  ones 
generally  glued  to  the  televi- 
sion, the  opportunity  to  check 
someone  out  who  was  a  Black 
person  that  many  of  them  had 
not  known  about.  So,  I  felt 
doubly  lucky.  On  the  one 
hand,  I  was  able  to  do  a  pro- 
gram the  best  way  that  I  knew 
how  to  do,  on  someone  I  truly 
respected  and  who  I  thought 
is  a  profoundly  important 
American.  I  was  able  to  give 
this  person  to  a  lot  of  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  if  you  will, 
as  a  gift,  open  handedly,  with- 
out fear  of  contradiction  and 
having  to  say,  "Hey,  he's  some- 
body, what  about  this  per- 
son?" Here  is  a  Black  American 
let's  get  with  him  for  a  minute. 
I  can't  think  of  anything  finer 
to  do. 

DRUM  -  Finally,  what  projects  are  you 
working  on  at  the  present 
time? 

BATTEN  -  One  of  the  things  that  I'm 
obviously  working  on  is  the 
radio  program  which  is  broad- 
cast in  your  community 
(Amherst,  MA)  with  diminish- 
ing frequency.  I  will  say  that 
it  is  a  National  Public  Radio 
station  and  let  the  audience 
figure  out  what  to  do  with 
that.  Seroiously,  I'm  involved 
in  an  extended  series,  a  13 
hour  series  on  Black  American 
history  from  before  the  War 
of  Independence  to  the  present 
day.  I'm  also  developing  a 
docu-drama  film  of  Frantz 
Fanon  and  another  on  Ruth 
Fulton  Benidicter. 

DRUM  -  Thank  you  for  sharing  this 
time  with  us. 


35 


At 


It  least  twice  a  week,  in  the  late 
afternoon,  as  the  juniper  trees  around 
Tatem  began  sending  out  their  cool 
elongated  shadows,  her  great-aunt  (who 
resembled  the  trees  in  her  straight, 
large-boned  mass  and  height)  would 
take  the  field  hat  down  from  its  nail 
on  the  door  and  solemnly  place  it 
over  her  headtie  and  braids.  With 
equal  ceremony  she  would  then  draw 
around  her  the  two  belts  she  and  the 
other  women  her  age  in  Tatem  always 
put  on  when  going  out:  one  belt  at  the 
waist  of  their  plain,  long-skirted  dress- 
es, and  the  other  (this  one  worn  in  the 
belief  that  it  gave  them  extra  strength) 
strapped  low  around  their  hips  like  the 
belt  for  a  sword  or  a  gun  holster. 

"Aveytara". 

There  was  never  any  need  to  call 
her,  because  Avey,  keeping  out  of  sight 
behind  the  old  women,  would  have 
already  followed  suit,  girding  her  non- 
existent hips  with  a  second  belt  (an 
imaginary  one)  and  placing— with  the 
same  studied  ceremony— a  smaller  ver- 
sion of  the  field  hat  (which  was  real) 
on  her  head.  To  protect  her  legs  from 
the  scrub  grass  and  bruch  along  the 
way  she  was  made  to  wear  wool  stock- 
ings despite  the  heat  and  her  high- 
topped  school  shoes  from  last  winter, 
which  her  mother  always  sent  along 
for  her  to  finish  out  the  summer  in. 

Thus  attired,  they  would  set  out, 
her  great -aunt  forging  ahead  in  her  dead 
husband's  old  brogans,  which  on  her 
feet  turned  into  seven-league  boots, 
while  Avey,  to  keep  up,  often  had  to 
play  a  silent  game  of  "Take  a  Giant 
Step"  with  herself:  "Avey  Williams, 
you  may  take  two  giant  steps."  "May 
I?"  'Yes,  you  may." 

The  first  leg  of  their  walk  took  them 
along  the  road  which  bordered  the  large 
wood  belonging  to  their  neighbor. 
Shad  Dawson.  The  wood,  dark  even  on 
the  sunniest  day  because  of  the  Spanish 
moss  hanging  in  great  silver-gray  skeins 
form  the  oaks,  was  a  place  filled  with 
every  kind  of  ha'nt  there  was,  accord- 
ing to  the  children  she  played  with  in 
Tatem. 

Once  past  the  wood  which  Shad 
Dawson  was  to  lose  eventually  to  the 
white  man  in  Beaufort  whom  he  had 


entrusted  to  pay  his  taxes  for  him, 
came  the  one  church  in  Tatem,  set  in 
a  bare  yard,  a  decrepit  hsting  clapboard 
structure  that  also  served  as  the  school. 
A  cross  and  an  open  book  painted  on 
the  front  window  marked  its  dual  pur- 
pose. In  its  lopsided  stance  the  church 
looked  as  if  it  had  never  recovered  from 
the  blow  dealt  its  authority  one  evening 
long  ago  when  Avey's  great-aunt  had 
raged  out  of  its  door  never  to  return. 

The  old  woman  (she  had  been  young 
then)  had  been  caught  "crossing  her 
feet"  in  a  Ring  Shout  being  held  there 
and  had  been  ordered  out  of  the  circle. 
But  she  had  refused  to  leave,  denying 
at  first  that  she  had  been  dancing,  then 
claiming  it  had  been  the  Spirit  moving 
powerfully  in  her  which  had  caused  her 
to  forget  and  cross  her  feet.  She  had 
even  tried  brazening  it  out:  "Hadn't 
David  danced  before  the  Lord?"  Final- 
ly, just  as  she  was  about  to  be  ejected 
bodily,  she  had  stormed  out  of  the  cir- 
cle and  the  church  on  her  own.  The  ban 
had  been  only  for  the  one  night,  but 
outraged,  insisting  still  on  her  innocen- 
ce, she  began  staying  away  from  the 
Ring  Shouts  altogether.  After  a  time 
she  even  stopped  attending  regular 
church  service  as  well. 

People  in  Tatem  said  she  had  made 
the  Landing  her  religion  after  that. 

Some  nights,  though,  when  they 
held  the  Shouts  she  would  go  to  stand, 
unreconciled  but  nostalgic,  on  the  dark- 
ened road  across  from  the  church,  tak- 
ing Avey  with  her  if  it  was  August. 
Through  the  open  door  the  handful 
of  elderly  men  and  women  still  left, 
and  who  still  held  to  the  old  ways, 
could  be  seen  slowly  circling  the  room 
in  a  loose  ring. 

They  were  propelling  themselves  for- 
ward at  a  curious  gliding  shuffle  which 
did  not  permit  the  soles  of  the  heavy 
work  shoes  they  had  on  to  ever  once  lift 
from  the  floor.  Only  their  heels  rose 
and  then  fell  with  each  step,  striking 
the  worn  pineboard  with  a  beat  that  was 
as  precise  and  intricate  as  a  drum's, 
and  which,  as  the  night  wore  on  and  the 
Shout  became  more  animated,  could  be 
heard  all  over  Tatem. 

They  sang:  "Who's  that  riding  the 
chariot?/Well  well  well  .  .  .  ";used  their 
hands  as  racing  tambourines,  slapped 
their  knees  and  thighs  and  chest  in  daz- 


36 


BEING  and  BECOMING 


NELSON  STEVENS 


37 


zling  syncopated  rhythm.  They  worked 
their  shoulders;  even  succeeded  at  times 
in  giving  a  mean  1*011  of  their  aged  hips. 
They  allowed  their  failing  bodies  every 
liberty,  yet  their  feet  never  once  left 
the  floor  or,  worse,  crossed  each  other 
in  a  dance  step. 

Arms  shot  up,  hands  arched  back 
like  wings:  "Got  your  life  in  my  hands/ 
Well  well  well  ..."  Singing  in  quaver- 
ing atonal  voices  as  they  glided  and 
stamped  one  behind  the  other  within 
the  larger  circle  of  their  shadows  cast  by 
the  lamplight  on  the  walls.  Even  when 
the  Spirit  took  hold  and  their  souls  and 
writhing  bodies  seemed  about  to  soar 
off  into  the  night,  their  feet  remained 
planted  firm.  I  shall  not  be  moved. 

It  wasn't  supposed  to  be  dancing, 
yet  to  Avey,  standing  beside  the  old 
woman,  it  held  something  of  the  look, 
and  it  felt  like  dancing  in  her  blood, 
so  that  under  cover  of  the  darkness  she 
performed  in  place  the  little  rhythmic 
trudge.  She  joined  in  the  singing  under 
her  breath:  "Got  your  life  in  my  hands/ 
Well  well  well  ..." 

With  the  church  behind  them  on  the 
walk,  they  came  to  the  last  few  houses 
in  the  small  settlement.  There  was  the 
drab-gray,  unpainted  bungalow  of 
"Doctor"  Benitha  Grant,  which  she 
had  enlivened  with  a  crepe  myrtle 
bush— all  red  blossoms— at  the  door  and 
a  front  yard  bright  and  overflowing  with 
samples  of  the  herbs  she  used  to  treat 
the  sick  and  ailing.  During  Avey's  first 
summer  in  Tatem  she  had  instantly 
stopped  the  pain  and  swelling  of  an  in- 
sect bite  on  her  arm  with  fennel  picked 
fresh  from  the  yard. 

Next  along  the  road  stood  the  frame 
dwelling  belonging  to  Pharo  Harris  and 
his  wife,  Miss  Celia.  There  not  a  single 
flower  or  herb  or  blade  of  grass  was  to 
be  seen  out  front.  Instead  he  and  his 
wife  had  piled  their  dusty  yard  and  the 
porch  to  the  house  with  all  the  rusted 
washtubs,  scrubboards  and  iron  kettles 
from  the  years  she  had  taken  in  washing 
and  all  the  broken  plows,  pitchforks, 
hoes  and  the  like  from  his  sharecropping 
days.  Pharo  Harris  had  even  dragged 
out  the  worn  traces  and  reins  from  his 
mules  who  had  died  and  flung  them  on 
the  heap.  All  of  it  left  there  for  anyone 
passing  to  see,  while  they— old  and  bent 
now— kept  busy  in  their  vegetable  gard- 
en out  back.  A  Tidewater  gothic  amid 
the  turnip  greens  and  squash. 

The    two    walking   seldom   saw   the 


Harrises,  but  their  neighbor,  Mr.  Golla 
Mack,  whose  greater  age  made  them 
seem  almost  young,  was  always  visible. 
The  moment  they  rounded  a  bend  in 
the  road  they  would  spot  him.  a  short, 
thick-set  old  man  with  unseeing  eyes 
the  milky  blue  of  a  play  marble,  seated 
in 

monumental  stillness  on  his  tumble- 
down porch.  Propped  against  his  chair 
was  one  of  the  walking  sticks  he  had 
been  known  for  making  before  going 
blind,  a  snake  carved  up  its  length. 

In  his  stillness  there  on  the  porch,  in 
the  shadow  cast  by  the  overhand,  Mr. 
Golla  Mack  scarcely  seemed  a  living 
breathing  man,  ordinary  flesh  and 
blood,  but  a  life-size  likeness  of  himself 
fashioned  out  of  some  substance  that 
was  immune  to  time,  the  August  heat 
and  flies  and  the  white  folds  in  Beau- 
fort. 

"Miz  Cuney,  is  that  that  little  ol' 
sassy  gal  from  New  York  I  sees  with 
you?" 

Mr.  Golla  Mack!  They  stopped  to 
pay 

their  respects  on  the  way  both  to  and 
from  the  Landing. 

His  was  the  last  house.  Beyond  it  all 
resemblance  of  a  road  vanished,  the 
trees  and  plant  cover  disappeared  and 
the  countryside  opened  into  a  vast 
denuded  tract  of  land  that  had  one, 
more  than  a  century  ago,  been  the  lar- 
gest plantation  of  sea  island  cotton 
thereabouts.  "War  is  cruelty  and  you 
cannot  refine  it":  General  WilUam 
Tecumseh  Sherman  on  his  march  of 
blood  and  fire  up  from  Atlanta. 
The  huge  field  had  fallen  victim  to  the 
pillaging  and  had  never  been  replanted. 

It  took  Avey  and  her  great-aunt— the 
old  woman  never  slackening  her  pace- 
over  a  half-hour  of  steady  walking  out 
under  the  sun  just  to  cover  one  section 
of  it.  Almost  the  same  amount  of  time 
was  then  spent  picking  their  way  down 
a  rocky  incline  of  high  thistle  grass 
and  scrub  that  led  to  another  ruined 
field  at  the  bottom,  this  one  a  soggy, 
low-lying  rich  field  that  had  been  more 
recently  abandoned. 

Here  her  great-aunt  always  put  to 
practical  use  the  second  belt  girding  her 
hips.  Stopping  briefly  she  would  draw 
the  top  of  her  skirt  up  over  it  until 
the  cloth  lay  in  a  fold  around  her  and 
her  hem  stood  clear  of  the  sodden 
ground.  The  next  moment  she  was 
striking  out  across  the  rice  field  toward 


a  small  pine  forest  at  its  edge. 

The  forest  marked  the  final  leg  of 
their  journey.  Moving  over  the  footpath 
the  old  woman  knew  by  heart  they  were 
treated  to  the  cool  resinous  smell  of  the 
pines,  the  soft,  springy  padding  the 
needles  formed  underfoot,  artd  the  salt 
drift  from  the  nearby  marshes.  And 
soon,  coming  to  meet  them  like  an  eager 
host  through  the  trees,  there  could  be 
heard  the  bright  sound  of  the  river  that 
was  their  destination.  And  over  it, 
farther  off,  the  distant  yet  powerful 
voice  of  the  sea. 

It  was  only  a  matter  of  minutes  then 
before  they  were  standing,  the  forest 
behind  them  and  the  river  at  their  feet, 
on  the  long  narrow  spit  of  land,  shaped 
like  one  of  Mr.  Golla  Mack's  walking 
sticks,  which  marked  the  point  where 
the  waters  in  and  around  Tatem  met  up 
with  the  open  sea.  On  the  maps  of  the 
country  it  was  known  as  Ibo  Landing. 
To  people  in  Tatem  it  was  simply  the 
Landing. 

"It  was  here  that  they  brought  'em. 
They  taken  'em  out  of  the  boats  right 
here  where  we's  standing.  Nobody 
remembers  how  many  of  'em  it  was, 
but  they  was  a  good  few  'cording  to 
my  gran'  who  was  a  little  girl  no  bigger 
than  you  when  it  happened.  The  small 
boats  was  drawed  up  here  and  the  ship 
they  had  just  come  from  was  out  in  the 
deep  water.  Great  big  ol'  ship  with  sails. 
And  the  minute  those  Ibos  was  brought 
on  shore  they  just  stopped,  my  gran' 
said,  and  taken  a  look  around.  A  good 
long  look.  Not  saying  a  word.  Just 
studying  the  place  real  good.  Just  taking 
their  time  and  studying  on  it. 

And  they  seen  things  that  day  you 
and  me  don't  have  the  power  to  see. 
'Cause  those  pure-bom  Africans  was 
peoples  my  gran'  said  could  see  in  more 
ways  than  one.  The  kind  can  tell  you 
'bout  things  happened  long  before  they 
was  born  and  things  to  come  long  after 
they's  dead.  Well,  they  seen  everything 
that  was  to  happen  'round  here  that 
day.  The  slavery  time  and  the  war  my 
gran'  always  talked  about,  the  'mancipa- 
tion and  everything  after  that  right  on 
up  to  the  hard  times  today.  Those  Ibos 
didn't  miss  a  thing.  Even  seen  you  and 
me  standing  here  tailing  about  'em.  And 
when  they  got  through  sizing  up  the 
place  real  good  and  seen  what  was  to 
come,  they  turned,  my  gran'  said,  and 
looked  at  the  white  folks  what  brought 
'em   here.   Took   their  time  again  and 


38 


gived  them  the  same  long  hard  look. 
Tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  know  how 
those  white  folks  stood  it.  I  know  I 
wouldn't  have  wanted  'em  looking  at 
me  that  way.  And  when  they  got 
through  studying  'em,  when  they  knew 
just  from  looking  at  'em  how  those 
folks  was  gonna  do,  do  you  know  what 
the  Ibos  did?  Do  you  .  .  .  ?" 

"I  do."  (It  wasn't  meant  for  her  to 
answer  but  she  always  did  anyway.) 
"Want  me  to  finish  telling  about  'em? 
I  know  the  story  as  good  as  you." 
(Which  was  true.  Back  home  after  only 
her  first  summer  in  Tatem  she  had 
recounted  the  whole  thing  almost  word 
for  word  to  her  three  brothers,  com- 
plete with  the  old  woman's  inflections 
and  gestures.) 

"...  They  just  turned,  my  gran' 
said,  all  of  'em—"  she  would  have 
ignored  the  interruption  as  usual; 
wouldn't  even  have  heard  it  over  the 
voice  that  possessed  heir-  "and  walked 
on  back  down  to  the  edge  of  the  river 
here.  Every  las'  man,  woman  and  chile. 
And  they  wasn't  taking  they  time  no 
more.  They  had  seen  what  they  had 
seen  and  those  Ibos  was  stepping!  And 
they  didn't  bother  getting  back  into  the 
small  boats  drawed  up  here— boats 
take  too  much  time.  They  just  kept 
walking  right  on  out  over  the  river.  Now 
you  wouldna  thought  they'd  of  got  very 
far  seeing  as  it  was  water  they  was 
walking  on.  Besides  they  had  all  that 
iron  on  'em.  Iron  on  they  ankles  and 
they  wrists  and  fastened  'round  they 
necks  like  a  dog  collar.  'Nuff  iron  to 
sink  an  army.  And  chains  hooking  up 
the  iron.  But  chains  didn't  stop  those 
Ibos  none.  Neither  iron.  The  way  my 
gran'  tol'  it  (other  folks  in  Tatem  said 
it  wasn't  so  and  that  she  was  crazy  but 
she  never  paid  'em  no  mind)  'cording 
to  her  they  just  kept  on  walking  like  the 
water  weis  solid  ground.  Left  the  white 
folks  standin'  back  here  with  they 
mouth  hung  open  and  they  taken  off 
down  the  river  on  foot.  Stepping.  And 
when  they  got  to  where  the  ship  was 
they  didn't  so  much  as  give  it  a  look. 
Just  walked  on  past  it.  Didn't  want 
nothing  to  do  with  that  ol'  shop.  They 
feets  was  gonna  take  'em  wherever  they 
was  going  that  day.  And  they  was 
singing  by  then,  so  my  gran'  said.  When 
they  realized  there  wasn't  nothing  be- 
tween them  and  home  but  some  water 
and  that  wasn't  giving  'em  no  trouble 
they  got  so  tickled  they  started  in  to 


singing.  You  could  hear  'em  clear  across 
Tatem  'cording  to  her.  They  sounded 
like  they  was  having  such  a  good  time 
my  gran'  declared  she  jsut  picked  her- 
self up  and  took  off  after  'em.  In  her 
mind  was  long  gone  with  the  Ibos  .  .  ." 

She  always  paused  here,  giving  the 
impression  she  was  done.  A  moment 
later  though  would  come  a  final  coda, 
spoken  with  an  amazed  revemtial  laugh: 
"Those  Ibos!  Just  upped  and  walked  on 
away  not  two  minutes  after  getting 
here!" 

"But  how  come  they  didn't  drown, 
Aunt  Cuney?" 

She  had  been  ten— that  old!— and  had 
been  hearing  the  story  for  four  summers 
straight  before  she  had  thought  to  ask. 

Slowly,  standing  on  the  consecrated 
ground,  her  height  almost  matching  her 
shadow  which  the  afternoon  sun  had 
drawn  out  over  the  water  at  their  feet, 
her  great-aunt  had  turned  and  regarded 
her  in  silence  for  the  longest  time.  It 
was  to  take  Avey  years  to  forget  the 
look  on  the  face  under  the  field  hat,  the 
disappointment  and  sadness  there.  If  she 
could  have  reached  up  that  day  and 
snatched  her  question  like  a  fly  out  of 
the  air  and  swallowed  it  whole,  she 
would  have  done  so.  And  long  after 
she  had  stopped  going  to  Tatem  and  the 
old  woman  was  dead,  she  was  to  catch 
herself  flinching  whenever  she  remem- 
bered the  voice  with  the  quietly  danger- 
ous note  that  had  issued  finally  from 
under  the  hat  brim. 

"Did  it  say  Jesus  drowned  when  he 
went  walking  on  the  water  in  that  Sun- 
day School  book  your  momma  always 
sends  with  you?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

"I  din'  think  so.  You  got  any  more 
questions?" 

She  had  shaken  her  head  "no". 

And  then  three  nights  ago,  in  the 
dream,  there  the  old  woman  had  been 
after  all  those  years,  drawn  up  waiting 
for  her  on  the  road  beside  Shad  Daw- 
son's wood  of  cedar  and  oak.  Standing 
there  unmarked  by  the  grave  in  the  field 
hat  and  the  drawn  with  the  double 
belts,  beckoning  to  her  with  a  hand  that 
should  have  been  fleshless  bone  by  now: 
clappers  to  be  played  at  a  Juba. 

Did  she  really  expect  her  to  go  walk- 
ing over  to  the  Landing  dressed  as  she 
was?  In  the  new  spring  suit  she  had  just 
put  on  to  wear  to  the  annual  luncheon 
at  the  Statler  given  by  Jerome  Johnson's 
lodge?  (He  was  outside  the  house  this 


minute  waiting  for  her  in  the  car.)  With 
her  hat  and  gloves  on?  And  her  fur  stole 
draped  over  her  arm?  Avey  Johnson 
could  have  laughed,  the  idea  was  so  rid- 
iculous. That  obstacle  course  of  scrub, 
rock  and  rough  grass  leading  down  from 
the  cotton  field  would  make  quick  work 
of  her  stockings,  and  the  open-toed 
patent-leather  pumps  she  was  wearing 
for  the  first  time  would  never  survive 
that  mud  flat  which  had  once  been  a 
rice  field.  Gaising  down,  she  saw  they 
were  already  filmed  with  dust  just  from 
her  standing  there.  Her  amusement 
began  to  give  way  to  irritation. 

From  a  distance  of  perhaps  thirty 
feet,  the  old  woman  continued  to  wave 
her  forward,  her  gesture  exhibiting  a 
patience  and  restraint  that  was  unlike 
her.  And  she  was  strangely  silent  stand- 
ing there  framed  by  the  moss-hung 
wood;  her  face  unlike  her  body,  had 
apparently  not  been  able  to  oversee  the 
grave. 

She  kept  up  the  patient  summons; 
and  from  where  she  stood  on  the  un- 
paved  country  road,  Avey  Johnson 
ignored  it,  getting  more  annoyed  each 
time  the  hand  beckoned.  If  she  could 
have  brought  herself  to  it,  she  would 
have  turned  and  walked  away  and  left 
her  standing  there  waving  at  the  empty 
grave.  But  such  disrespect  was  beyond 
her.  She  would  stand  her  ground  then! 
Refuse  to  take  even  a  single  step  for- 
ward! To  reassure  this,  she  dug  her  shoe 
heels  into  the  dirt  and  loose  vines  at  her 
feet.  A  battle,  she  sensed,  had  been  join- 
ed. 

They  remained  like  this  for  the  long- 
est time,  until  finally,  the  old  woman, 
glancing  anxiously  at  the  declinging  sun, 
abruptly  changed  her  tactics.  Her  hand 
dropped  and,  reaching  in  with  her  arms, 
she  began  coaxing  her  forward,  gently 
urging  her,  the  way  a  mother  would  a 
one-year-old  who  hangs  back  from  walk- 
ing on  its  own. 

It  was  behavior  so  opposed  to  the 
Aunt  Cuney  she  had  known,  Avey 
Johnson  stood  there  mystified,  and  then 
was  all  the  more  annoyed.  She  swung 
away  her  face,  telling  herself,  hoping, 
that  when  she  looked  back,  she  would 
find  that  the  old  woman  had  given  up 
and  gone  on  the  walk  alone;  or  better 
yet  had  returned  to  her  grave  in  Tatem's 
colored  cemetery.  But  not  only  was  the 
tall  figure  still  there  when  she  looked 
around  again,  the  coaxing  had  become 
more  impassioned. 


39 


DRUM  PROFILE 

JOHN 
BIGGERS 


40 


Drum  Salutes 


JESSE  JACKSON 


NELSON  STEVENS 


41 


JESSE'S 
RAINBOW 


by  Brad  Kaplan 


It  has  been  two  decades  since  the 
national  Civil  Rights  revolution  was 
launched  by  the  Reverend  Martin 
Luther  King,  Jr.  His  eloquent  dream  of 
racial  unity  and  the  palpable  witness 
of  a  quarter  of  a  million  marches  at 
the  Lincoln  Memorial  are  deeply  etch- 
ed in  our  nations  history.  What  was 
then  a  Civil  Right  movement  has  be- 
come a  political  movement,  but  the 
goal  is  still  the  same:  an  equal  place 
for  Black  Americans.  First  as  an  aide 
to  King,  now  as  leader  in  his  own 
right,  Jesse  Jackson  has  been  part  of 
part  of  both  movements.  King's  legacy 
hangs  over  Jackson,  as  it  does  over  the 
rest  of  the  nation. 

What  Martin  Luther  King,  Jr.  start- 
ed Jesse  Jackson  is  carrying  to  new 
heights  today.  What  King  strove  for 
was  freedom  from  oppression,  segrega- 
tion and  hatred  for  his  people.  He  did 
this  through  visible  non-violent  pro- 
test, and  through  this  gained  the 
sympathy  and  understanding  of  the 
majority  of  our  nation.  It  was  an 
achievement  and  symbol  for  peace 
unequalled  in  our  time.  Gone  are  the 
past  realities  of  segregated  bathrooms 
and  busses,  yet  Black  Americans  are 
far  from  reaching  the  racial  equality 
and  brotherhood  Dr.  King  strove  for, 
and  ultimately  died  for.  Black  America 
for  the  most  part  is  no  longer  reject- 
ed yet  in  many  ways  it  is  far  from 
accepted.  Economic  inequality  still  re- 
veals a  strong  under  current  of  racism 
in  society  and  our  political  structure. 
Whereas  Dr.  King  got  us  over  the  wave 
we  must  still  deal  with  a  strong  under- 
tow which  threatens  to  bring  us  back 
out  to  sea. 

The  civil  rights  movements  of  the 


60's  were  a  triumph  for  Black  America 
and  a  symbol  to  all  unjust  nations 
throughout  the  world;  yet  where  does 
the  black  movement  go  from  there. 
The  answer  is  politics,  and  Jesse  Jack- 
son had  realized  this  for  quite  some 
time.  Once  segregation  and  other 
visible  signs  of  inequality  are  abolish- 
ed, the  next  logical  and  crucial  step  is 
to  gain  political  power  to  further  the 
movement  through  legitimate  legal 
networks.  Once  blacks  gain  political 
power  they  msut  be  listened  to  and 
reckoned  with. 

Since  the  mid  1960's  there  has  been 
a  political  awakening  in  Black  America 
like  no  other  time  in  U.S.  history.  Yet 
in  terms  of  sheer  numbers,  this  awak- 
ening has  been  extremely  apathetic.  It 
would  seem  that  after  MLK  let  Black 
America  on  the  boat  most  of  its  popu- 
lation seems  content  to  sit  back  and 
enjoy  the  ride;, doing  nothing  to  better 
that  ride  for  themselves  and  others. 
Yet  into  this  scene  comes  an  antagon- 
ist by  the  name  of  Ronald  Reagan. 
President  Reagan  has  inadvertently 
made  a  bad  enemy  of  the  black  com- 
munity and  in  doing  so  has  politically 
'reawakened  Black  America.  This  re- 
awakening is  spurred  in  part  by 
Reagan's  domestic  cuts  and  insensiti- 
vity  to  civil  rights.  "This  administra- 
tion has  mounted  a  counter  revolu- 
tion," says  Vernon  Jordan.  "They  are 
not  only  stopping  the  clock,  they  are 
pushing  it  back."  In  the  South  where 
affirmative  action  and  equal  employ- 
ment have  never  been  strong,  the 
Regan  cutbacks  in  civil  rights  enforce- 
ment have  been  devastating.  Another 
largely  overlooked  factor  in  generating 
Black    America    is    Reagan's  unbridled 


escalation  of  the  arms  race  which  has 
infuriated  countless  activist  groups  and 
peace  lovers.  As  is  remembered  in  the 
1960's,  the  civil  rights  movement  was 
the  catalyst  for  all  the  other  move- 
ments and  these  other  factions  don't 
forget  their  kinship  with  the  black 
struggle.  "Jesse  Jackson's  idea  and 
Ronald  Reagan's  reality  have  commit- 
ted black  people  to  the  political  pro- 
cess like  we  have  never  been  commit- 
ted before,"  says  Michael  Tomax, 
chairman  of  the  board  of  commission- 
ers in  Fulton  County,  GA. 

So  into  this  warming  pot  of  black 
activism  comes  the  reality  of  Jesse 
Jackson's  campaign  for  the  presidency 
of  the  United  States.  To  stoke  the 
flame,  he  is  not  the  first.  The  first 
black  to  be  considered  by  a  major 
party  for  the  presidency  was  the 
abolisionist  Frederick  Douglass,  who 
received  a  single,  complementary  vote 
at  the  1888  Republican  Convention. 
In  1972,  New  York  Congresswoman 
Shirly  Chisholm  entered  the  Demo- 
cratic race  and  in  fourteen  primaries 
picked  up  28  delegates.  Though  both 
were  very  respectable  efforts,  they 
were  premature  in  their  goals.  Now  the 
time  seems  to  be  right.  As  Dick 
Gregory  said  to  us  in  a  recent  inter- 
view. "Jesse  Jackson's  candidacy;  it 
sounds  good,  it  feels  good,  and  its 
giving  blacks  a  reason  to  get  involved." 
Jackson  is  convinced  that  black  people 
will  not  vote  unless  they  have  some- 
thing to  vote  for.  A  black  candidacy 
does  more  than  inspire  black  voters;  it 
is  also  a  way  to  increase  black  power 
at  the  lower  levels  of  politics.  "The 
more  we  talk,  the  more  we  convince 
people  that  the  issue  is  not  just  the 


42 


White  House  (although  this  would  be 
the  greatest  culmination  of  the  effort) 
He  says,  "People  really  buy  in  at  the 
level  of  supervisors  and  school  board 
members.  Victory  here  is  not  the 
leader  getting  across  the  finish  line 
first.  Victory  is  how  many  people  you 
carry  with  you."  It  is  obvious  that 
Martin  Luther  King,  Jr.  carried  one 
very  important  person  with  him. 

The  most  important  goal  of  Jack- 
son's candidacy  is  in  the  registering  of 
black  voters.  This  was  realized  by 
MLK  but  its  significance  is  being 
brought  to  the  fore  front  by  Jackson. 
Power  lies  in  registration  in  registra- 
tion not  in  voting.  A  fine  analogy  is 
made  by  Dick  Gregory,  "If  you  had 
10  million  dollars  every  body  that  got 
anything  to  sell  is  gonna  be  beatin  a 
path  to  your  door.  Trying  to  sell  you 
whatever  they  think  you  need.  Jesse 
Jackson  states,  'There's  a  freedom 
train  a  coming,  but  you  got  to  be  regis- 
tered to  ride." 

In  registering  a  huge  black  block  of 
voters  you  gain  leverage  power.  Those 
who  seek  positions  of  power  will  have 
to  appease  that  block,  and  listen  to  its 
grievances.  For  too  many  years  blacks 
haven't  been  a  significant  enough 
pKDlitical  power,  in  terms  of  registra- 
tered  numbers,  to  force  any  politician 
count  their  vote.  Thus,  the  black 
community  has  been  exploited  by  the 
mainly  white,  corporate  source  of 
minimum  -  wage  labor  on  which  cap- 
italizm  thrives  on. 

As  Jackson  has  said,  "When  you 
run,  the  masses  register  and  vote. 
When  you  run,  you  put  your  program 
on  the  front  burner.  If  you  run,  you 
might  lose.  If  you  don't  run,  you're 
guaranteed  to  lose."  Since  Jackson's 
bid  for  the  candidacy,  blacks  are  regis- 
tering to  vote  and  running  for  office 
in  a  groundswell  of  activism  that 
promises  to  alter  permanently  the 
policital  balance  on  local,  state  and 
national  levels.  The  candidacy  will 
significantly  reshape  the  1984  (and 
future)  political  landscape  for  the  bet- 
ter and  help  the  Democratic  Party 
oust  Ronald  Reagan.  It  would  firmly 
place  a  large  block  of  uncommitted 
and/or  non-existent  voters  on  the 
Democratic  door-step.  If  black  voter 
participation  increases  by  a  25%  by 
the  time  of  the  general  elections, 
Reagan  could  lose  eight  states  he  won 
in  1980  -  Alabama,  Arkansas,  Massa- 


chusetts, Mississippi,  New  York,  North 
Carolina,  South  Carolina  and  Tennes- 
see. In  Alabama  for  example,  where 
Reagan  won  by  17,462  votes,  there 
were  272,390  unregistered  blacks.  In 
New  York  there  are  900,000  unregis- 
tered blacks  (55%  of  those  eligible), 
more  than  five  times  as  many  as 
Reagan's  1980  margin  of  victory. 

What  Jackson's  Rainbow  Coalition 
is  doing  is  generating  excitement;  not 
only  in  the  black  community  but  in 
others  out  side  of  the  power  structure. 
Blacks,  along  with  other  minorities, 
women,  laborers,  peace  activists,  the 
white  poor  and  very  significantly  the 
younger  generation,  are  given  a  plat- 
form of  peace,  justice  and  equality 
they  can  relate  to. 

In  Alabama,  Georgia  and  Florida, 
Jackson  has  had  very  successful  show- 
ings in  the  polls  largely  due  to  the 
younger  generation.  In  all  three  states, 
younger  blacks  and  whites  were  Jack- 
son's most  enthusiastic  supporters. 
In  Alabama  he  was  backed  by  67%  of 
black  voters  aged  18-49,  compared 
with  45%  of  the  over  50  crowd.  Young 
people  today  want  a  peaceful  world 
to  grow  up  in  and  raise  a  family  in. 
Our  generation  is  the  first  to  ever  have 
to  deal  with  the  aspect  of  a  nuclear 
future.  Never  before  in  our  history 
have  we  lived  under  the  threat  of 
worldwide  destruction  and  this  is  the 
utmost  concern  of  today's  young.  Jesse 
Jackson  seems  to  be  the  most  viable 
option  to  this  madness. 

The  excitement  generated  by  Jack- 
son is  bigger  now  in  the  black  com- 
munity than  it  has.  ever  been.  There  is 
a  new  sense  of  hope.  It  is  the  ultimate 
embodiment  of  the  American  political 
ideal,  and  affirmation  that  every  child 
of  the  nation  -  yes  even  a  black  one  - 
can  some  day  seek  the  presidency. 
Americans  like  to  tell  their  children 
that  if  they  work  hard  enough  they 
can  grow  up  to  be  President.  "I  have 
one  proposition,"  says  Richard  Hatch- 
er, mayor  of  Gary  Indiana,  "either  we 
ought  to  stop  lying  to  our  children 
or  we  ought  to  start  believing  it  and 
doing  the  things  necessary  to  make  it 
come  true."  Jackson  is  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  American  dream,  yet  the 
color  of  his  skin  still  turns  the  hair  up 
on  the  back  of  the  necks  of  white 
politicians.  He  has  given  the  black 
community  a  new  source  of  hope  and 
pride. 


The  excitement  generated  by  Jack- 
son in  recent  years  reflects,  and  con- 
tributes to,  a  resurgence  of  black  poli- 
tical activism  not  seen  since  the 
1960's.  He  is  inspiring  (and  in  inspired 
by)  other  blacks  who  seek  offices  on 
their  own;  forcing  white  candidates 
as  well  as  blacks  to  raise  and  consider 
issues  that  are  important  to  minor- 
ities. "My  running  will  stimulate  thou- 
sands to  run,"  he  says.  "If  you  can  get 
your  share  of  legislators,  mayors, 
sherrifs,  school-board  members,  tax 
accessors  and  dog  catchers,  you  can 
live  with  who  ever  is  in  the  White 
House.  His  goal  is  "parity",  a  fair 
share  of  elected  offices  for  blacks.  For 
years  blacks  were  prohibited  to  use 
the  ballot  box,  now  they  not  only 
are  able  to  use  it.  some  are  learning  to 
play  the  game.  In  1963  there  were 
fewer  than  50  black  elected  officials 
in  the  entire  South.  Now  there 
are  nearly  3,200  -  more  than  the  rest 
of  the  nation  combined.  Atlanta  is 
a  black  -  run  city.  Nearly  every  black 
belt  county  in  Alabama  has  a  black 
sherrif.  And  Mississippi  has  more 
black  elected  officials  than  any  state. 
In  1982  the  number  of  black  state 
legislators  increased  by  35,  to  355, 
the  largest  jump  ever.  In  Boston,  once 
a  hotbed  of  racial  tension,  Melvin 
King,  a  black  former  state  legislator 
became  the  first  black  to  be  on  that 
city's  final  mayoral  ballot.  Yet  Jack- 
son becomes  bitter  when  other  black 
leaders;  those  he  feels  are  content  to 
serve  as  "trustees  of  the  ghetto,"  dis- 
miss him  as  opportunistic.  "Part  of  our 
problem  now  is  that  some  of  our 
leaders  do  not  seize  opportunities,"  he 
says  "I  was  trained  by  Martin  to  be  an 
opportunist." 

In  terms  of  delegates,  Jackson  does 
not  figure  to  be  much  of  a  factor  at 
the  Democratic  Convention.  His  in- 
fluence will  come  from  his  proven 
ability  to  rally  black  voters.  Jackson 
has  already  stated  that  he  will  support 
only  a  nominee  who  shares  his  opposi- 
tion to  run  off  elections,  dual  registra- 
tion and  other  measures  he  feels  un- 
dermine the  Voting  Rights  Act.  If  the 
nominee  is  agreeable,  then  Jackson 
will  work  to  deliver  voters  onto  the 
Democratic  Party.  "If  the  party  is 
forthcoming,  I'd  put  jet  fuel  in  my 
butt,"  he  promises  "if  it's  not,  I'd  sit 
on  it." 


43 


John  A.  Kendrick 

A  SALUTE 


By  Jeff  Donaldson 


On  May  fifth  of  1982,  death  came  suddenly  and  quite  unexpectedly  to  John 
A.  Kendrick,  a  Virginia-born  New  York  artist  and  Black  collegian  who  was 
expected  to  complete  all  requirements  for  the  Ph.D.  in  Art  History  this  past 
spring. 

Kendrick  was  barely  thirty  years  old  and  to  Kim,  his  wife,  and  to  his  many 
friends,  associates  and  a  fast-growing  coterie  of  art  patrons  his  passing  was 
profoundly  lamentable. 

Yet,  John  had  already  achieved  world  class  status  in  the  Transafrican  Art 
world  during  the  short  span  of  his  brilliant  career.  Moreover,  his  art  history 
research  and  insight  reflect  undeniable  scholarly  potential  of  the  first  rank. 


Street  Corner  Symphony,  42"  x  60",  mixed  media  1975 


Street  Encounter,  24"  x  42", 
mixed  media  1974 


44 


Prelude,  48  "  x  60  ",  mixed  media  1976 


NT 


5-<' 


Transitions,  48"  x  60",  mixed  media  1975 


H2O  Ritual,  36"  x  48",  oil  and  acrylic  1977 


Wall  Of  Spiritual  Aspirations 
(outdoor  mural)  8'  x  10',  acrylic  1977       P 


Courtesy  of  BLACK  COLLEGEAN  MAGAZINE 


45 


The  following  contains  excerpts  from 
an  interview  with  Ray  Almeida,  the 
Public  Relations  Officer  from  the 
Embassy  of  Cape  Verde. 

Mr.  Almeida  came  to  the  University 
of  Massachusetts  at  Amherst  on  the 
weekend  of  December  3rd,  1983  to  at- 
tend the  Third  World  Student  Leader- 
ship Conference,  to  address  the  local 
Cape  Verdean  student  community,  and 
to  establish  closer  links  between  the 
Government  of  Cape  Verde  and  the 
University  of  Massachusetts. 


An  Interview  with 

RAY  ALMEIDA 


by  Robert  Treixeira 

•'  DRUM    -    Mr.    Almeida,    during    the 

first  visit  ever  by  a  Cape  Ver- 
dean head  of  state  to  the 
United  States,  Cape  Verde's 
President  Pereira  met  for  several 
private  sessions  with  the  Reagan 
Administration.  During  Pereira's 
White  House  meeting  with  Rea- 
gan, what  was  the  topic  of  dis- 
cussion? 
R.A.  -  There  were  several  topics  discus- 
sed. Certainly,  among  them  was 
the  general  amicable  nature  of 
relations  between  our  two  na- 
tions. The  Cape  Verde  and 
United  States  relations  are  des- 
cribed as  normal,  which  is  a 
diplomatic  term  which  fits  into  a 
particular  place  in  the  spector  of 
relations.  There  are  normal  rela- 
tions and  there  are  friendly  re- 
lations. President  Pereira  left  the 
White  House  having  felt  the  U.S. 
would  continue  its  commitment 
to  provide  food  and  economic 
development  assistance.  How- 
ever, he  did  mention  the  tendecy 
for  the  decrease  in  the  level  of 
aid  which  the  United  States  has 
been  providing.  For  example, 
there  is  no  correction  for  the  in- 
flation factor  in  the  level  of  aid 


46 


provided.  So  what  looked  like 
five  million  dollars  seven  years 
ago,  in  fact,  comes  down  to  con- 
siderably less. 

The  two  presidents  also  spoke 
about  the  role  of  Cape  Verde's 
in  attempts  to  find  an  interna- 
tional solution  to  the  problems 
in  South  Africa.  Pereira  descri- 
bed the  sentiments  of  the  parties 
involved,  in  particular,  the  role 
of  Namibian  independence  and 
the  role  of  the  front  Angolan 
government  and  several  other 
governments  immediately  before 
he  came  to  the  United  States. 
He  once  again  communicated  to 
Angola  and  the  other  parties 
involved.  Remember,  Cape  Ver- 
de has  not  been  acting  on  behalf 
of  the  countries  directly  involve- 
ed.  Cape  Verde  has  been  provid- 
ing its  territory  for  face  to  face 
discussion  in  a  safe  environment 
where  there  is  an  opportunity 
for  tight-lipped  discussion. 

Cape  Verde  has  very  real  inter- 
ests in  this  issue,  not  just  be- 
cause she  comes  from  a  non- 
aligned  place  whose  ideology 
says  she  wants  to  do  every- 
thing she  can  do  to  resolve 
internationl  tension  and  restore 
viable  peace.  Rather,  because 
of  our  historical  colonial  con- 
nection with  Angola,  we  have 
real  interests.  With  the  cessation 
of  hostilities  within  Angola  and 
her  neighbors,  Angola  is  going 
to  turn  its  human  and  other 
resources  to  creating  some  great 
economic  stuff  for  themselves. 
This  "will  only  be  to  the  benefit 
of  Cape  Verde.  We  have  stong 
historical,  political,  cultural,  and 
linguistic  connections  with 
Angola.  Cape  Verdeans  have  his- 
torically been  employed  in  An- 
gola as  part  of  a  skilled  labor 
force.  Cape  Verdean  people 
should  understand  that  this  isn't 
just  one  highly  regarded  diplo- 
mat, head  of  state,  that  has 
access  to  a  number  of  warring 
parties.  But  there  is  a  very 
practical  side.  The  Cape  Verdean 
self-interest  is  very  much  in- 
volved. 

DRUM  -  What  was  President  Pereira's 
reaction  after  his  meeting  with 
the  Reagan  Administration?  Was 
he  satisfied? 

R.A.   -  The  senior  level  administrators. 


the  President,  Vice-President, 
and  Assistant  Secretary  of  State 
for  African  Affairs  Crocker, 
spent  several  hours  with  him. 
Vice-President  Bush  lunched 
with  him  and  President  Reagan 
met  with  him  for  a  half  hour. 

This  was  an  unofficial  visit, 
a  personal  visit,  and  yet  it  was 
accorded  this  high  level  of  im- 
portance. With  the  fact  that 
President  Pereira  has  been  on  the 
scene  for  a  long  time,  before 
Cape  Verdean  Independence, 
and  from  the  generation  of 
Nkruma  is  quite  interesting. 
President  Pereira  is  satisfied  with 
his  visit  with  the  Reagan  Admin- 
istration because  he  accomplish- 
ed what  he  had  hoped  for.  I 
think  American  officials  would 
agree. 

DRUM  -  What  kind  of  interest  did  the 
United  States  government  ex- 
press in  regards  to  developing 
closer  relations  with  Cape  Ver- 
de? Did  the  Administration  ex- 
press any  military  interests? 

R.A.  -  My  answer  to  the  second  ques- 
tion is  no,  not  to  my  knowledge. 
Remember,  Cape  Verde  is  a  non- 
aligned  country.  Now,  the  an- 
swer to  the  first  question. 

The  U.S.  has  been  participating 
in  aid  programs  for  Cape  Verde 
since  Independence  in  1975. 
Over  a  period  of  time,  they  have 
been  developing  a  strategy  where 
the  U.S.  effort  is  in  agriculture 
and  rural  training  projects.  They 
have  provided  agricultural  train- 
ing schlarships  for  Cape  Verdean 
students.  These  scholarships  pro- 
vided by  the  U.S.  are,  according 
to  their  A.I.D.  agreedment,  ad- 
ministered by  the  Cape  Verdean 
government. 

There  is  some  interest  that 
these  opportunities  be  expand- 
ed. For  example,  we  talked  a- 
bout  providing  additional  com- 
mitments of  com.  Here,  one  of 
the  things  that  needs  to  be  ex- 
pressed is  that  in  this  case,  poli- 
itics  needs  to  be  put  aside.  The 
bottom  line  is  feeding  the  peo- 
ple. There  is  an  incredible 
drought  that  is  in  its  16th  year. 
There  is  going  to  be  a  total  loss 
of  harvest  this  year.  We  thought 
that  Cape  Verde  would  be  able 
to  produce  about  3000  metric 
tons    of    corn    and    then    that 


figure  was  revised  downward. 
Now,  it's  clear  that  only  100 
metric  tons  of  corn  will  be  pro- 
duced in  Cape  Verde  this  year. 
Thus  we  will  have  to  import 
somewhere  between  96%  to 
97%  of  what  we  have  to  eat. 
This  is  an  incredibly  devastating 
thing  that's  going  to  have  a 
profound  impact  upon  everyone, 
but  in  particular,  the  rural  poor. 
The  U.S.  government  has  made  a 
commitment  to  provide  emer- 
gency assistance  over  and  above 
the  1500  metric  tons  of  corn 
which  it  planned  to  contribute 
every  year,  for  the  next  15 
years.  There  may  also  be  as 
much  as  a  million  dollar  increase 
in  aid  from  them  this  year.  This 
came  about  as  a  result  of  the 
worsening  drought  situation  and 
from  President  Pereira's  visit. 

DRUM  -  What  kind  of  non-government 
private  investment  opportunities 
does  the  Cape  Verdean  govern- 
ment encourage? 

R.A.  - 1  assume  you  are  talking  about  in- 
vestments from  private  U.S. 
firms  and  not  N.G.O.'s,  Non 
Governmental  Organizations  like 
Oxfam  America  and  the  Uke. 
There  is  presently  a  private  in- 
vestment and  development  code 
which  is  now  in  the  process  of 
being  developed.  Up  until  now, 
every  private  investment  pro- 
posal has  been  dealt  with  on  a 
project  to  project  basis.  The 
government  has  more  than  half 
of  the  ownership  and  some  cases 
where  there  is  no  partnership  at 
all.  We  have  a  hotel  on  the  Island 
of  Saul  which  is  privately  owned 
by  some  Belgians  since  before 
Independence  in  1975. 

There  is  going  to  be  expansion 
in  this  sector.  It's  going  to  be 
slow  and  deliberate.  The  doors 
are  just  not  open  for  anyone  to 
rush  in  with  a  fast  buck  making 
scheme  because  like  everything 
else  in  Cape  Verde,  we  want  it  to 
fit  in  with  the  overall  frame- 
work of  doing  what  will  be  best 
for  the  majority  of  people  for 
the  longest  period  of  time.  It 
has  to  have  an  empowering  ef- 
fect. If  it  will  create  jobs,  if  it 
will  impart  some  skills;  it  it  will 
increase  the  hard  currency  that's 
available  within  the  economy;  if 
it  will  slowly  enable  our  people 


47 


CAPE  VERDE  FISHERMAN 


DRUM  -  Would   you   encourage   Cape 
Verdean     Americans    to    come 

to  particiapte  in  ownership. 
These  are  at  least  four  criteria 
that  must  be  looked  at  in  any 
private  investment  scheme.  If 
the  people  bringing  money  from 
the  outside  are  just  going  to  be 
preoccupied  with  repatration  of 
thier  capital  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, they  should  forget  it.  A 
hotel  or  a  construction  scheme 
for  instance  has  to  include  some- 
thing that's  going  to  belong  to 
our  folks.  If  just  can't  exist  in 
order  to  create  ditch  digging 
jobs  and  waiting  jobs  for  Cape 
Verdeans.  Some  how,  it  must 
teach  Cape  Verdeans  how  to 
manage  and  participate  in  own- 
ership, etc. 


RON  BARBOZA 


back  and  invest  in  Cape  Verde? 
R.A.  -  To  a  certian  extent  this  is  already 
going  on,  principly  though,  with 
the  Cape  Verdean  communities 
in  Europe.  An  invenstment  pat- 
tern is  just  being  developed 
there.  There  is  no  clear  invest- 
ment pattern  from  the  U.S. 
There  have  been  a  lot  of  inquir- 
ies from  the  U.S.  Cape  Verdean 
Community.  However,  with  the 
enactment  of  Cape  Verde's  uni- 
form private  investment  code, 
we  will  start  to  see  more  Cape 
Verdean  Americans  investing 
their  monies  there. 

We  have  a  future  in  fishery 
related  stuff,  in  tourism,  and  a 
future  in  the  service  industry. 
Cape  Verdeans  have  a  lot  of 
skills  that  are  highly  prized  in 
the  West  African  region.  That's 


because  Cape  Verdeans  have  had 
much  experience  in  dealing  with 
outsiders.  Also,  another  major 
area  of  investment  may  relate  to 
our  ports.  We  potentially  have 
the  deepest  water  port  in  West 
Africa.  It  must  be  developed, 
though.  This  will  be  a  center- 
piece for  development  in  the 
long  run. 

DRUM  -  Besides  the  U.S.,  What  other 
countries  provide  aid  to  Cape 
Verde? 

R.A.  -  There  are  many.  We  have  some 
very  old  friends  (some  social 
countries)  since  the  liberation 
movement  that  have  continued 
to  help  Cape  Verde  in  a  much 
more  structural  and  systematic 
way.  Independence  obviously 
created  the  opportunity  for  re- 
construction, which  otherwise 
would  have  been  impossible. 

We  get  significant  support  from 
countries  like  the  Netherlands 
and  Belgium.  The  Dutch  provide 
us  with  more  support  than  the 
U.S.  does.  Sweden  and  West 
Germany  are  also  significant  par- 
tners. Portugal,  even  with  its  de- 
vastated economy,  provides  us 
with  a  considerable  amount  of 
money  which  is  dollar  for  dollar 
more  than  the  U.S. 

The  interests  of  the  U.S.  in 
Cape  Verde  are  limited.  We 
would  like  that  support  expand- 
ed. However,  the  U.S.  has  re- 
cognized Cape  Verde  ever  since 
independence  eight  years  ago, 
and  has  been  involved  in  aid  pro- 
grams ever  since. 

Thus  the  U.S.,  Italy,  France, 
Portugal,  Canada,  Belgium,  Hol- 
land, Norway,  Sweden,  Den- 
mark, Switzeriand,  West  Ger- 
many, and  others  are  involved 
in  clear  development  projects  in 
Cape  Verde.  Interestingly,  we 
have  immigrant  communities  in 
all  these  places,  in  particular  in 
the  U.S.,  where  it  is  the  largest. 

DRUM  -  Where  are  the  Cape  Verdean 
communities  in  the  U.S.? 

R.A.  -  The  U.S.  has  the  oldest  and  lar- 
gest immigrant  community  in 
the  world.  The  largest  concentra- 
tion resides  in  the  city  of  New 
Bedford.  The  largest  community 
of  new  immigrants  in  the  U.S.  is 
in  the  Roxbury/Dorchester  sec- 
tions of  Boston.  Pawtucket, 
Rhode  Island  is  the  next  largest; 


48 


FIXING  OUR  NETS 


RON  BARBOZA 


the  greater  Providence  are  being 
the  second  largest  ethnic  com- 
munity. In  the  Cape  Verdean 
Islands,  people  do  not  make  this 
distinction.  All  Cape  Verdeans 
are  considered  Cape  Verdean 
immigrants.  Of  course  Ameri- 
cans do  not  make  this  distinc- 
tion because  the  U.S.  has  a  rat- 
her unique  way  in  how  it  deals 
with  immigrants.  Outside  of 
Massachusetts  and  Rhode  Island, 
there  are  Cape  Verdean  com- 
munities throughout  Connecti- 
cut, in  New  York  City,  and  a 
scattering  throughout  New  York 
State.  There  are  communities  up 
and  down  the  East  Coast.  There 
are  small  sets  of  Cape  Verdean 
families  throughout  the  middle 
parts  of  America.  Cape  Verdean 
families  throughout  the  middle 
parts  of  America.  Cape  Verdean 
communities  are  growing  all  over 
California.  There  are  large  com- 
munities in  Sacremento,  Oak- 
land, San  Francisco  and  San 
Diego. 


DRUM  -  You  have  already  spoken  of 
the  interest  that  the  Cape  Ver- 
dean government  has  in  the  U.S., 
and  its  obvious  interests  with 
Cape  Verdean  Americans.  What 
kind  of  interest  does  the  Cape 
Verde  government  have  with 
Cape  Verdean  students,  especial- 
ly since  UMass  -  Amherst  has  a 
rapidly  growing  record  of  Cape 
Verdean  student  recruitment? 

R.A.  -  The  government  and  PAIGC  (the 
political  independence  party  of 
Cape  Verde),  believes  in  the 
power  of  young  people,  and 
their  responsibility.  We  are  a 
young  country.  Sixty  percent  of 
the  people  are  under  twenty 
years  old.  The  government  itself 
is  only  eight  years  old.  Thus, 
every  government  program  has 
to  address  issues  relating  to 
youth.  There  has  to  be  youthful 
and  creative  solutions  all  issues 
in  Cape  Verde.  We  have  only 
two  high  schools.  There  are  a 
small     number    of    elementary 


schools.  We  do  not  have  a 
University.  By  the  year  2000, 
there  are  going  to  be  one  and  a 
half  times  more  Cape  Verdeans 
living  in  Cape  Verde  than  there 
are  now. 

American  Cape  Verdeans  are 
by  far  the  most  well  fed  and 
generally,  better  educated  peo- 
ple of  Cape  Verdean  orign  on 
the  planet.  They  have  access 
to  some  of  the  finest  education- 
al, cultural,  and  technological 
institutions  in  the  world. 

Cape  Verde  would  really  like 
to  look  at  what  opportunities 
might  exist  for  creating  some 
institutional  contacts  between 
various  emerging  institutions  and 
organizations  in  Cape  Verde,  and 
similar  institutions  here  where 
Cape  Verdeans  are  involved. 
There  are  about  twenty  students 
that  have  gone  through  or  are 
completing  various  technical 
programs  dealt  with  arid  rural 
area  agricultural  farming.  These 
students  have  come  back  having 


49 


fully  learned  English  and  with  a 
set  of  skills  which  they  have 
acquired  in  this  American  insti- 
tution. 

We  are  just  now  understanding 
what  the  potential  might  be  for 
a  more  systematic  hook  up  bet- 
ween the  Ministry  of  Rural 
Development  and  other  agencies 
in  Cape  Verde  and  this  Univer- 
sity. New  England  is  a  sea  coast 
region;  it  has  the  resources  in 
oceanography.  It  is  also  an  area 
of  high  tech. 

Cape  Verde  is  trying  to  plug 
into  modern  international  tele- 
communications networks  as 
well  as  trying  to  develop  thier 
inter  -  island  communications. 
There  are  other  interests.  Cape 
Verdean  students  in  the  Univer- 
sities they  attend  are  generally 
involved  with  the  larger  com- 
munities of  color  and  Third 
world'  student  organizatons. 
Most  of  these  organizations  have 
a  progressive  rhetoric  that  talks 
about  identifying  with  the  pro- 
gress of  peoples  of  color  where- 
ever  they  may  be.  Our  students 
tend  to  understand  that  we  can 
never  be  totally  free  as  long  as 
some  of  us  are  in  chains,  are 
hungry,  or  continue  to  get 
raped  and  pilaged  elsewhere  on 
the  planet. 

We  see  in  Cape  Verde  a  micro- 
cosm of  all  the  issues  that  plague 
the  Thirld  World;  issues  of  col- 
onial inheritance,  transportation 
problems,  inequitable  distribu- 
tion of  wealth,  and  many  more. 
And  because  Cape  Verde  is  so 
small,  a  student  after  analyz- 
ing the  way  Cape  Verdeans  con- 
struct their  world,  can  make  a 
very  real  contibution  to  the 
people  of  Cape  Verde.  The 
slightest  consistent  input  will 
have  very  real  results.  For 
example,  there  is  a  real  future 
for  responsible  Cape  Verdean 
students  who  learn  to  use  the 
American  political  process  to  in- 
fluence the  level,  the  quality 
and  the  quantity  of  support 
that  the  U.S.  government  gives 
to  Africa.  There  really  is  not 
much  of  an  African  lobby  in 
this  country. 

We  also  are  interested  in  creat- 
ing a  vehicle  to  organize  Univer- 
sity students  to  come  to  Cape 


Verde  on  a  scholarly  or  solidar 
ity  visit.  This  is  very  practical 
because  there  are  some  Cape 
Verdean  students  who  have  re- 
turned and  immediately  ended 
up  working  as  administrators  for 
various  government  departments 
For  example,  there  is  a  Food 
Science  and  Nutrition  major 
from  this  institution  who  is  an 
administrator  for  a  science  lab- 
oratory. 

We  welcome  any  inquires  about 
student  returning  to  Cape  Verde 
in  order  to  work  and  help  the 
people  of  Cape  Verde. 
DRUM  -  Thank  you  Ray  Almeida 

ARISTIDES 
PEREIDA 

BY  ROBERT  TEIXEIRA 

On  September  28th,  1983  in  honor 
of  the  first  visit  by  a  Cape  Verdean  Pre- 
sident to  the  United  States  since  the 
Cape  Verde  Islands  gained  independence 
in  1975,  a  reception  was  held  at  the 
Massachusetts  Insitute  of  Technology  at 
Cambridge. 

Aristides  Pereira,  President  of  the 
Republic  of  Cape  Verde  (Cape  Verde 
Islands),  in  what  was  labled  as  a  "pre- 
sidential address"  to  the  greater  Boston 
community,  said,  "I  am  overwhelmed 
by  the  presence  of  so  many  Cape  Ver- 
deans here  ...  I  feel  right  at  home". 

Pereira  came  to  the  United  States 
on  an  eleven  day  visit.  His  goals  were 
to  establish  closer  links  with  the  tightly 
knit  U.S.  Cape  Verdean  community, 
develop  friendlier  relations  with  the 
U.S.  government,  and  to  address  the 
United  Nations  General  Assembly  in  his 
capacity  as  current  president  of  the 
Interstate  Committee  for  Drought 
Control  in  the  Sahel  (CILSS).  He  visited 
a  number  of  Cape  Verdean  communit- 
ies, met  with  the  World  Bank  president. 
President  Reagan  and  Vice-President 
Bush,  and  of  course,  addressed  the  U.N. 

In  his  address  Pereira  spoke  of  the 
need  to  open  more  channels  of  com- 
munication and  exhange  between  the 
two  countries.  He  siad,  "Cape  Verdean 
Americans  don't  need  an  invitation  to 
visit  their  people  in  the  islands".  He  said 
that  such  visits  and  the  establishment 
of  small  scale  business  investments  will 
help    develop    "closer    links    that    will 


benefit  our  two  nations".  "We  encour- 
age the  building  of  private,  voluntary, 
non-governmental  insitutional  net- 
works". 

On  foreign  policy,  Pereira  repeated 
his  country's  stand  on  non-alignment. 
"Our  foreign  policy  follows  a  strict 
policy  of  non-alignment  and  mutual 
cooperation  and  respect  among  na- 
tions." He  pointed  out  that  his  country 
was  the  host  country  for  negotiations 
concerning  South  African  aggression 
between  apartheid  South  Africa  and 
Angola. 

At  a  reception  following  the  address, 
a  member  of  the  Cape  Verdean  Embassy 
staff  approached  a  group  of  UMass 
Amherst  Cape  Verdean  students  who 
had  come  between  the  Embassy  and 
Cape  Verdean  students  in  the  U.S. 
Many  students  took  the  offer  to  heart. 
One  student  replied,  "to  make  these 
types  of  official  contacts  with  my 
homeland  can  only  strengthen  Cape 
Verdean  culture  and  unity  here  in 
the  U.S." 

The  Cape  Verde  Islands  are  located 
approximately  300  miles  off  the  coast 
of  Senegal,  West  Africa.  In  1462  the 
Portugese  arrived  and  formed  Europe's 
first  African  colony.  Subsequently,  it 
became  a  center  for  the  Atlantic  slave 
trade.  Through  time,  the  Portuguese 
began  to  intermarry  with  the  African 
slave  population,  creating  the  so-called 
Creole  ethnicity,  the  dominant  ethnic 
group  in  the  Cape  Verde  Islands  today. 
Cape  Verde's  population  is  now 
300,000. 

In  the  nineteenth  and  early  twentieth 
centuries,  many  Cape  Verdeans  emigrat- 
ed into  Southeastern  Massachusetts,  in 
particular  the  New  Bedford  area,  to 
work  as  indentured  servants  on  whaling 
and  fishing  expeditions.  They  also 
emigrated  to  places  like  Senegal,  Hol- 
land, and  Brazil  to  escape  harsh  drought 
and  economic  conditions  imposed  upon 
them  by  500  years  of  Portuguese  colon- 
ial rule. 

Pereira  thanked  the  Cape  Verdean 
American  community  for  their  "over- 
whelming support"  for  the  aid  given  to 
the  hurricane-stricken  island  of  Brava. 
"The  people  of  Brava  thank  all  of  you 
for  your  support." 

Lastly,  Pereira  challenged  Cape  Ver- 
dean Americans  to  become  more  poli- 
tically active.  He  said  that  if  more 
Cape  Verdean  Americans  become  more 
politically  active  and  visible,  it  will 
create  a  climate  for  more  "positive 
realtions  between  our  two  countries." 


50 


by  Schyleen  Quails 


DRUM  -  What  should  we  talk  about, 
your  work  as  writer,  director, 
producer,  educator  .  .  .? 

PCH  -  How  about  life  and  death  . .  .? 

DRUM  -  Anybody  I  know  .  .  .? 

PCH  -  The  Race,  its  in  trouble  you 
know. 

DRUM  -  But,  we  are  surviving. 

PCH  -  Sure,  but  I'm  not  always  sure 
that  we're  living. 

DRUM  -  In  terms  of  Reagonomics  .  . .? 

PCH  -  Socially  and  culturally  too  .  .  . 
Sometimes  I  get  the  feeling  that 
we  are  losing  the  good  fight  to 
establish  a  sense  of  ethnic  ex- 
cellece  that  is  not  circumscribed 
by  White  America.  We  are,  after 
all,  30  million  people,  are  we 
not? 

DRUM  -  And  growing  .  .  .  Our  people 
are  closer  now  than  ever  before. 
People  wanna  be  close,  you 
know,  be  family. 

PCH  -  Yeah,  but  is  the  family  really 
happy?  Until  recently,  perhaps 
until  the  infiltration  of  Am- 
erican values  into  the  family,  I 
had  never  heard  the  word  suicide 


uttered  from  the  mouths  of 
Black  people.  We  seem  to  be 
caught  up  in  the  self-destruct 
insinuations  of  Acid  Rock  and 
Heavy  Metal. 

DRUM  -  I  think  Black  life  is  still  being 
sustained  by  vigorous  and  resili- 
ent social  rituals,  those  con- 
nected to  an  African  sense  of 
morality.  Folks  still  have  a 
strong  consciousness  of  racial 
objectives. 

PCH  -  Then  along  comes  a  Milton  Cole- 
man to  profane  the  honest  aspir- 
ations of  the  Race.  He  spit  in 
the  face  of  Black  identity  in 
order  to  secure  his  self-interests. 

DRUM  -  I  guess  Coleman  felt  he  was 
morally  correct  to  scream  on 
Jesse,  and  as  a  journalist.  Profes- 
sionally ethical. 

PCH  -  But  in  these  critical  times  of 
struggle  for  survival,  one's  moral 
judgement  must  necessarily  be 
selective.  Machiavellian  and  ac- 
countable to  the  objectives  of 
the  Race.  After  all,  the  social 
ritual  known  as  American  Poli- 


tics has  always  served  special 
interest  groups.  It's  a  corrupt, 
patronage  game  which  manipu- 
lates people  through  artificial, 
even  fraudulent  devices  of  per- 
suasion rather  than  being  a 
moral  mandate.  The  best  man 
does  not  necessarily  win,  and 
Coleman  knows  that.  He  opted 
for  the  side  that  butters  his 
bread  rather  than  the  side  that 
nurtures  and  potentially  sustains 
his  spirit.  Ethics  is  a  commend- 
able virtue.  But,  I  don't  believe 
that  Black  folks  can  afford  to 
be  blind  liberals.  Independence 
of  thought  and  action  is  a  luxury 
not  a  given  right,  for  an  oppres- 
sed people,  though  we're  sup- 
posed to  accept  the  illusion  that 
we  live  in  the  Land  of  the  Free, 
knowing  very  well  it's  more  like 
the  Home  of  the  Brave.  It  takes 
courage  to  be  one  of  the  oppres- 
sed in  a  land  with  so  much  op- 
pulence.  There  are  many  social 
rituals  within  the  Race  that 
border     on     parochialism    and 


51 


ARLENE  TURNER  CRAWFORD 


ROBIN  CHANDLER  SMITH 


52 


thereby  seem  restrictive  to  those 
members  of  the  Race  who've 
developed  a  more  sophisticated 
posture,  one  that  allows  them  to 
be  designated  a  social  status 
outside  the  often  arbitrary 
sociogrammatic  indicators  of 
economic  oppresion.  I  recall  be- 
ing invited  to  a  friend's  parents' 
home  for  Thanksgiving  dinner. 
Thanksgiving  doesn't  mean  any- 
thing to  me  except  a  good  meal. 
So,  in  preparation  for  the 
feast,  I  dressed  in  jeans,  sweater 
and  sneaker  much  to  the  con- 
sternation of  the  sister  accom- 
panying me.  She  said,  "You 
can't  go  to  your  friend's  parents' 
house  dressed  like  that."  A  pro- 
per jacket  and  tie  would  be  nec- 
essary for  the  occasion.  I  had 
forgotten  that  my  casual  de- 
meanor was  way  out  of  line  for 
a  formal  eating  ritual  in  the 
home  of  elders.  I  didn't  care 
much  for  my  independence  be- 
ing abridged,  but  elders  adhere 
to  a  strict  code  of  behavior 
which  should  not  be  violated. 

DRUM  -  You  felt  restricted? 

PCH  -  I  felt  a  certain  restraint  but 
restraint,  self-imposed  or  other- 
wise, is  often  necessary  when 
one  lives  in  a  socially  chaotic 
environment.  Restraint,  when 
appropriately  focused,  gives  one 
a  sense  of  discipline,  a  way  to 
negotiate  moments  of  euphoria 
and  depression.  Too  much  free- 
dom often  leads  to  self-destruc- 
tion. Americans  strive  for  fame 
and  fortune  which  is  supposed 
to  provide  one  the  ultimate  in 
personal  liberation.  Fame  and 
fortune  were  not  able  to  insulate 
Teddy  Pendergrass  and  Marvin 
Gaye  from  the  deceits  of  free- 
dom. Very  few  of  us  are  able  to 
survive  the  kind  of  freedom  that 
separates  us  from  the  traditional 
values  that  corresponds  to  our 
culturally  conceived  sense  of 
right  and  wrong.  Such  values 
may  seem  archaic  and  confining 
when  we  aspire  towards  stand- 
ards of  conformity  outside  the 
social  ritual  of  the  Race. 

DRUM  -  You're  saying,  freedom  must 
be  earned  and  not  simply  de- 
sired? 

PCH   -   I'm  saying  that   freedom   is   a 


great  responsibility  and  should 
not  be  abused.  We  do  abuse  it 
when  our  actions  are  indifferent 
to  our  lack  the  support  of  social 
and  cultural  objectives  that  de- 
fine our  circumstances  here  in 
the  Home  of  the  Brave.  For  ex- 
ample, if  I'm  teaching  a  course 
that  requires  a  student  to  possess 
certain  basic  skills  in  order  for 
him  to  benefit  fully  from  the 
lesson,  and  a  student  can  rap 
but  cannot  read,  would  it  be 
unfair  of  me  to  deny  him  access 
to  the  experience?  That's  some- 
thing of  a  moral  dilemma.  Sup- 
pose I  accept  the  student  when 
he  is  not  prepared  for  the  exper- 
ience and  he  fails.  Clearly,  I 
have  done  him  a  great  disservice. 
If  I  don't  accept  the  brother  or 
sister,  it  appears  to  be  rejection, 
as  opposed  to  a  prudent  selec- 
tion process  which  signals  that 
all  experiences  are  not  good  for 
all  people.  That  might  sound  like 
elitism  but  the  process  of  sur- 
vival does  not  mean  that  every- 
body must  perform  the  same 
tasks  in  order  to  make  a  mean- 
ingful contribution  to  the  Race, 
certainly  not  for  the  sake  of 
sentimentality  or  some  kind  of 
quasi-egalitarian  posture  of  fair- 
ness. The  notion  that  everyone 
must  have  a  college  degree,  is 
a  hoax  perpetuated  on  the  mid- 
dle-class. We  also  need  farmers, 
fishermen,  electricians,  carpen- 
ters, even  surrogate  mothers  for 
Day  Care  centers.  In  order  to 
overcome  oppression,  there  are 
many  hard  questions  a  people 
in  struggle  must  ask  themselves, 
many  difficult  choices  they  must 
make.  In  the  Afro-American 
Folk  Culture  class  I  taught  at 
Smith  College,  a  young  woman 
from  Italy  was  the  only  student 
to  closely  inspect  the  choice  of 
freedom  the  slaves  had  in  the 
film,  "The  Autobiography  of 
Miss  Jane  Pittman."  She  surmis- 
ed that  the  brutal  masters  had 
instilled  an  emotional  antagon- 
ism in  the  slaves  which  made 
their  desire  for  freedom  clear 
cut.  Conversely,  the  benevolent 
masters  instilled  in  the  slaves  an 
ambivalence  toward  freedom, 
a     certain     sense     of    security. 


causing  many  of  them  to  opt 
for  staying  on  the  plantation  in 
the  protective  custody  of  the 
master.  Even  today,  paternalistic 
affiliation  continues  to  be  the 
emotional  preference  for  many 
Blacks  who  view  America  as  the 
only  possible  haven  in  the  world, 
as  if  freedom  could  not  be 
realized  beyond  these  frontiers. 
I  mean,  leaving  this  plantation 
with  its  25  inch  color  T.  V.'s, 
quadro-phonic  stereos.  General 
Motors  cars,  its  six-packs  of 
Miller's  Lite  and  ample  supply  of 
Extra-Strength  Tylenol  for  some 
place  like  Africa,  is  a  terrifying 
thought  for  most  Blacks. 
DRUM  -  True,  Paul,  but  there  was 
something  else  about  "Jane  Pit- 
tman" that  I  found  interesting. 
She  was  portrayed  as  the  Eternal 
Mother  preoccupied  with  pro- 
tecting the  males  in  her  life. 
Black  mothers  and  their  sons 
have  traditionally  has  a  special 
relationship,  but  don't  you  think 
that  the  protrayal  of  Black 
women  as  great  matriarchs  is  a 
bit  misleading? 

PCH  -  Great  books,  particularly  those 
dealing  with  the  Black  experi- 
ence, are  always  misleading 
when  translated  into  popular 
television  films.  Jane  Pittman 
was  an  archetypal  reflection  of 
traditional  relationships  between 
men  and  women.  Men  are 
designated  to  organize  society. 
Women  are  powerful  sources  of 
spirituality.  Jane  Pittman  as- 
sumed a  protective  posture  over 
the  men  in  her  life  because  they 
had  the  potential  to  erect  a 
society  following  slavery.  Rem- 
ber,  it  was  always  the  males  in 
her  life  who  were  assaulted  as 
she  made  her  way  through  a 
century  of  struggle.  Even  in 
Hansberry's  play,  "Raisin  in 
the  Sun",  you  find  the  mother 
running  the  household  through 
the  omnipresent  spirit  of  the 
father.  Thus,  when  she  finally 
decides  to  give  the  coveted  in- 
surance money  over  to  her 
formerly  indolent  son,  it  be- 
comes a  reflection  of  her  man- 
date to  make  the  man-child  a 
responsible  leader  the  family. 


53 


DRUM  -  Harriet  Tubman  was  also  a 
leader,  though  if  you've  seen  the 
Tee  Vee  film,  you'd  think  she 
was  some  kind  of  Amazon  by 
the  way  she  bullied  men. 

PCH  -  Harriet  Tubman  wouldn't  have 
had  to  knock  a  man  down.  Men 
followed  her  because  of  her 
strength  of  spirit.  They  trusted 
her  and  they  survived.  Black 
women  have  never  been  power- 
less and  Black  men  know  it. 

DRUM  -  Black  women  need  to  feel 
secure  within  the  strengths  of 
men.  We've  gotta  find  a  balance 
so  everybody  is  protected.  Men 
have  got  to  start  asserting  them- 
selves and  not  just  laying-in-the- 
cut,  because  whatever  under- 
mines Black  women. 

PCH  -  You  wouldn't  deny  that  women 
are  powerful? 

DRUM  -  Of  course  not!  Women  see  the 
power  in  women  too. 

PCH  -  My  aunt,  Gladyce  De Jesus  was 
such  a  woman.  She  had  a  parti- 
cularly compelling  influence  on 
young  women  like  Ester  Phillips 
when  she  was  Little  Ester,  Dee 
Dee  Bridgewater,  Yolanda 
King,  yourself  .  .  . 

DRUM  -  Gladyce  had  a  magical  aura. 

PCH  -  She  v/as  my  heroine.  As  a  child, 
I  found  it  quite  remarkable  that 
she  could  earn  a  living  compos- 
ing songs.  Her  career  spanned 
fifty  years.  She  had  some  hits, 
some  misses  and  many  songs 
that  were  simply  ripped  off  by 
white  artists  for  popular  con- 
sumption for  which  she  did  not 
receive  proper  royalties.  What 
impressed  me  was  her  inspired 
commitment  to  her  work.  Her 
efforts  made  it  seem  reasonable 
for  me  to  consider  taking  the 
risk  of  working  in  the  arts 
rather  than  becoming  a  doctor, 
lawyer,  Indian  chief.  In  those 
early  days.  Blacks  were  discour- 
aged from  pursuing  careers  in 
the  arts.  The  lady  was  a  pioneer 
composer  of  Black  popular 
music.  Although  she  never  be- 
came rich,  she  never  suffered 
from  poverty  or  pessimism.  But 
neither  the  Race  nor  I  could 
protect  her  gift  because  we  did 
not,  and  still  don't,  control  the 
apparatus  of  distribution  and 
marketing  of  the  product.  Not 


having  control  over  any  Black 
artist's  fifty  years  of  creation 
has  severe  consequences  on  the 
articulation  and  definition  of  the 
culture.  Without  control,  the 
culture  is  vulnerable  to  eccen- 
tric or  exotic  packaging. 

DRUM  -  Would  you  call  Michael  Jack- 
son an  industry  creation,  some 
kind  of  cliche  on  the  sexually 
ambivalent,  sweet,  pretty  Black 
man  which  makes  his  image 
accessible  to  both  males  and  fe- 
males? 

PCH  -  Michael  Jackson,  however  gifted, 
is  a  neuter  personality.  With  all 
the  money  he  has  earned,  there 
is  no  reason  for  him  to  be  an- 
drogenous.  If  he's  not  careful, 
the  industry  is  gonna  package 
him  as  a  hologram  and  the  real 
Michael  Jackson  will  never 
stand  up  for  applause  in  public. 

DRUM  -  In  agreement  with  Minister 
Farakhan,  I  believe  that  Michael 
is  being  used  by  the  industry  as 
a  vehicle  for  the  public's  sexual 
fantasies. 

PCH  -  But  we're  talking  abot  an  enter- 
tainer. It's  becoming  increasingly 
difficult  for  me  to  depend  on 
entertainers  to  be  accountable  to 
the  collective  objectives  of  Black 
people.  They  are  a  temporary 
relief  from  the  anxieties  of  a 
chaotic  world.  How  can  you 
take  them  seriously  when  they 
seldom  deliver  enlightened  ex- 
pressions of  Black  culture?  What 
is  a  Grammy  award  but  a  cele- 
bration of  American  popular 
culture?  When  Black  culture  is 
absorbed  by  pop  culture,  it  loses 
its  vital  essence,  its  ability  to 
enlighted.  Unfortunately,  many 
Blacks  find  pop  culture  more 
appealing,  in  fact  more  legiti- 
mate than  Black  culture.  They 
don't  find  it  peculiar  that  Chuck 
Berry,  a  true  enough  "blues 
man",  must  wear  the  mantle  of 
Father  of  Rock  'n  Roll  in  order 
to  be  authenticated.  White 
youths,  for  some  reason,  take 
the  blues  tradition  seriously. 
Very  few  young  Blacks  pay  at- 
tention to  blues,  or  even  the 
tradition  of  so-called  jazz.  One 
should  not  be  surprised  when 
Chuck  Berry  is  joined  on  the 
stage    at    the    Grammy   Awards 


with  two  white  youths  who 
emulate  his  style  of  guitar  play- 
ing and  dancing  with  utter 
devotion  and  reasonable  skill. 
So,  we  have  Chuck  Berry,  a 
traditional  blues  man,  designated 
the  Father  of  Rock  'n  Roll, 
passing  on  the  tradition  to  the 
children  of  the  American  pop- 
ular culture. 

DRUM  -  But  as  the  tradition  becomes 
popularized,  we're  already 
moving  on  to  some  place  else, 
the  problem  is,  wherever  we 
move,  there's  no  money  to  sup- 
port what  we  do.  Yet  whites  can 
get  into  it  and  make  money.  It's 
very  hard  for  us  to  sustain  our- 
selves commercially  within  the 
tradition. 

PCH  -  But  if  we  don't,  the  tradition  will 
no  longer  belong  to  us.  For  ex- 
ample, during  the  same  Grammy 
ceremony,  the  Gospel  category 
was  won  by  a  white  man  who 
sang  like  Ray  Charies.  Then  a 
sub-category  was  presented  cal- 
led Soul  Gospel.  What  the  hell  is 
Soul  Gospel  if  it  isn't  Gospel? 
The  winner  was  a  Black  woman 
who  at  best  was  rather  pedes- 
trian. Accepting  an  award  for  a 
sub-category  relegates  our  sacred 
music  to  a  sub-cultural  status. 
We  need  to  drop  the  word  Soul 
from  our  lexicon  anyway.  It  has 
been  over-used  and  popularized 
to  the  point  of  robbing  it  of  its 
resonance.  The  word  has  become 
merely  a  descriptive  tool  of 
sociologists  to  designate  racial 
traits.  If  an  experience  is  created 
from  the  spiritual  ethos  of  Black 
culture,  then  Soul  is  simply  a 
redundant  expression,  even  mis- 
leading. 

DRUM  -  What  do  you  feel  about  Miss 
Black  America  vs.  Miss  America? 

PCH  -  What's  the  point  in  the  designa- 
tion "Miss  Black  America"  if  the 
lady  wants  to  be  authenticated 
for  standards  of  beauty  found  in 
Miss  America?  I've  never  heard 
of  Miss  Jewish  America  or  Miss 
Chinese  America.  If  Blacks  are 
seeking  some  kind  of  unique 
definition  of  beauty,  why  not 
call  the  standard  Miss  Thang? 
All  Blacks  can  relate  to  the 
nuances  of  a  Miss  Thang! 

DRUM   -  We   tend   to  be   what   we're 


54 


programmed  to  be  in  American 
culture    though    we  seldom   re- 
ceive any  of  the  true  benefits  of 
it. 
PCH  -  As  long  as  we  have  a  paternalistic 
dependence  on  America  to  ad- 
vance our  economic  interests  or 
to     perpetuate     Black    culture, 
we're  in  trouble.  I  think  we  need 
to  establish  a  posture  of  industri- 
alization, develop  our  own  pro- 
ducts and  take  advantage  of  our 
vast  market.  Blacks  control  more 
money  than  many  small  nations 
but    invariably,    we    invest    in 
creature  comforts,  not  self-sup- 
porting   industries.    Perhaps    it 
has  something  to  do  with  Blacks 
never  viewing  themselves  as  im- 
migrants.   All    other    people    in 
this  country  view  themselves  as 
immigrants  in  the  land  of  pro- 
mise and  do  whatever  is  neces- 
sary to  exploit  the  wealth  with 
independent      initiative     rather 
than  depend  on  the  paternalistic 
largess  or  moral  imperatives  of 
the       Great       White       Father. 
Garvey    understood   the   impor- 
tance    of     self-industrialization 
just  as  the  newly  arrived  Cubans 
and    Vietnamese    understand    it 
today.  It's  interesting  that  when 
the  West  Indians  arrived  back  in 
the  Twenties,  they  were  vlllified 
and  disdained  by  many  Ameri- 
can Blacks  because  of  thier  ag- 
gressive efforts  to  secure  a  sense 
of      economic      independence. 
They  had  put  a  premium  on  edu- 
cation and  developing  small  busi- 
nesses   even   if  it   meant   doing 
menial  jobs  at  first  to  accumu- 
late the  necessary  capital  to  at- 
tain  their  collective   objectives. 
Seems  to  me  we  should  be  doing 
more    than    pleasure-fishing  off 
the  coast  of  South  Carolina.  We 
should  be  developing  an  inter- 
national export  industry  of  cat- 
fish, for  example.  All  it  takes  is 
a   marketing  scheme   similar  to 
the  one  that  has  people  believing 
that  sardines  from  Portugal  are 
more  tasty   than  sardines  from 
any  other  part  of  the  Atlantic. 
I'm  sure  there  must  be  enough 
used    tires  scattered  around   as 
debris  in  the  inner  cities  to  be 
harvested  for  the  beginnings  of 
a  rubber  vulcanization  factory. 


The  opportunities  for  industrial- 
ization are  all  around  but  we 
seldom  take  advantage  of  them. 

DRUM  -  That's  probably  because 
America  tricks  Blacks  into  bel- 
ieving that  they  should  aspire 
towards  jobs  that  will  pay  us 
$30,000  per  year  rather  than 
$300,000. 

PCH  -  Our  aspirations  are  often  limited 
by  the  expectations  of  main- 
stream culture.  In  the  arts,  it  is 
not  uncommon  for  a  writer, 
actor,  painter,  or  humorist  to  be 
applauded  at  his  lowest  level  of 
development  simply  because  of 


his  accessibility  to  the  popular 
culture. 

DRUM  -  Maybe  there  are  just  too  many 
of  us  out  there  trying  to  make 
it  in  a  television  and  film  indus- 
try that  Umits  our  images  to 
"One  More  Time",  "Gimmie 
A  Break",  and  "The  Jeffersons". 
There's  a  lot  of  talent  out  there 
with  no  place  to  go. 

PCH  -  A  few  years  ago,  after  a  lecture  at 
Stanford  University,  I  had  lunch 
with  a  group  of  very  bright 
Black  students  who  were  vitally 
concerned  with  and  active  parti- 
cipants in  the  performing  arts 
despite  the  fact  that  they  were 
studying  more  traditional  aca- 
demic disciplines.  They  wanted 
to  know  when  Hollywood  was 
going  to  give  them  more  realistic 
images  of  themselves  (Blacks).  I 
replied,    "When    you.    Doctor, 


Lawyer,  Indian  Chief  are  ready 
to  purchase  some  prime  time!" 
The  notion  brought  a  hush  over 
the  table.  It  had  not  occurred  to 
them   that  it  was  their  respon- 
sibility, and  not  the  industry's, 
to   celebrate   their  reality.   Pro- 
fessional  Blacks   must  begin  to 
prioritize  how  they  spend  their 
money  so  as  to  become  a  viable 
resource  to  support,  sustain,  and 
perpetuate    the    culture.    Given 
the  vast  market,  we  need  to  de- 
velop a  systematic  approach  to 
tapping  into  the  market,  a  mar- 
keting strategy  for  a  cultural  in- 
fra-structure which  is  not  vulner- 
able to  the  capriciousness  of  the 
American   popular  culture.  For 
the  past  few  years,  I've  discon- 
tinued  talking  about  aesthetics 
and  given  my  attention  to  the 
development  of  a  national  net- 
work   for    the    marketing    and 
dissemination  of  Black  perform- 
ing and  visual  arts.  What's  the 
point  in  making  claims  to  a  uni- 
que cultural  aesthetic  if  there  is 
only  a  limited  forum  for  the  pro- 
duct?   We    have  spent   the  last 
twenty     years     developing     an 
extraordinary   pool  of  artistical 
talent  -  writers,  directors,  pain- 
ters,  film-makers,  dancers.  The 
next  ten  or  fifteen  years  needs 
to   be  devoted  to  developing  a 
systematic     apparatus    for    the 
dissemination    of   the    products 
throughout    the    Black    Worid. 
What's  the  point  in  encouraging 
students  to  become  professional 
artists  while  we  remain  trapped 
by    the    biases   of  popular  cul- 
ture? 

DRUM  -  You  sound  fed  up  with  it  all, 
Paul. 

PCH  - 1  am! 

DRUM  -  You've  made  a  major  contri- 
bution to  the  performing  arts 
over  the  years.  If  you  had  it 
to  do  all  over  again,  would 
you  do  something  other  than 
write,  direct,  produce? 

PCH  -  I  wouldn't  change  a  thing. 
Right  now,  I'd  like  to  do  what  I 
do  differently.  A  change  does 
not  simply  come.  You've  gotta 
create  the  changes  while  you're 
playing  the  tune! 

DRUM  -  Thank  you  Paul  Carter  Har- 
rison. 


55 


A  DISCUSSION  W 
REV,  ROBIN  L,  HARDEN 


Robin  L.  Harden  accepted  the  position 
of  Protestant  Cliaplin  at  the  University 
of  Massachusetts  at  Amherst  in  August 
of  1983.  Rev.  Harden  is  an  ordained 
minister  of  the  American  Baptist 
Churches  of  Massachusetts.  She  gradu- 
ated in  1983  from  Harvard  Divinity 
School  in  Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 
She  did  her  undergraduate  work  at 
Hamilton  College  in  Clinton,  New  York 
where  she  majored  in  anthropology. 
At  Harvard,  Rev.  Harden  was  an  assist- 
ant minister  at  the  Grant  A.M.E.  Church 
in  Roxbury,  Massachusetts.  She  also 
participated  in  a  ministerial  internship 
at  the  Shiloh  Baptist  Church  in  Wash- 
ington, D.C. 


DRUM  -  Why  did  you  choose  ministry 
as  a  profession? 

ROBIN  -Ministry  is  a  unique  profession 
particularly  when  women 
become  ordained  ministers. 
Ministry  chose  me;  I  didn't 
choose  it.  If  you  had  asked  me 
several  years  ago  what  career 
I  wanted  to  pursue,  I  would  have 
said  education,  law,  or  medicine. 
The  decision  to  go  into  ministry 
came  out  of  a  period  of  fasting 
and  prayer  for  me.  I  don't  see 
it  so  much  as  a  career  but  as 
one  of  the  many  expressions  of 
my  relationship  with  God. 


DRUM  -  Why  did  you  choose  the  job 
at  the  University  of  Mass.  and 
how  do  you  feel  about  it? 

ROBIN  -  Again,  I  see  it  as  an  ongoing 
relationship  with  God.  When  I 
heard  about  the  job,  things 
started  to  click  in  a  positive 
way.  For  one  thing,  I  was  famil- 
iar with  academic  structures. 
Secondly,  the  people  to  whom 
I  would  be  called  to  minister 
would  be  primarily  students 
whom  I  felt  I  would  have 
enough  distance  from  to  serve 
as  a  pastor  and  big  sister.  There 
is  a  healthy  kind  of  distance 
and  a  special  kind  of  closeness, 
I'm  close  enough  in  terms  of  my 
education  to  pretty  much  know 
what  they  may  be  going 
through. 

DRUM  -  What  recommendations  would 
you  give  to  other  Black  women 
going  into  ordained  ministry. 

ROBIN  -  My  advice  to  anyone  who  is 
thinking  about  the  ordained 
minsitry  is  to  be  certain  it  is 
what  you  want.  Don't  do  it  as 
a  career  choice.  Do  it  because 
you  have  received  a  calling; 
there  is  a  radical  difference 
between  the  two.  I  don't  think 
one  can  make  the  decision  to  go 
into  ministry  arbitrarily.  Be  cer- 
tain it  is  a  gut  conviction.  For 


Black  women  in  particular,  in 
weighing  the  factors  of  sexism 
and  racism,  you  really  have  to  be 
certain  of  your  calling  and  also 
be  aware  of  the  price  you  are 
going  to  pay.  It  is  going  to  affect 
every  aspect  of  your  life.  And  by 
virtue  of  being  Black  and  a 
woman,  you  are  going  to  be  a 
rarity.  I  have  heard  a  woman 
preach  and  they  have  had 
biased  opinions.  After  one  of  my 
preaching  engagements,  a  man 
approached  me  and  said,  "I  now 
believe  women  are  called  to 
preach,  that  was  a  really  good 
sermon."  But  if  you  turn  the 
compliment  around  you  will  see 
that  the  sermon  had  been  bad, 
he  would  have  been  convinced 
that  women  had  no  business  in 
the  minsitry.  Now  if  a  male 
preacher  gives  a  bad  sermon, 
nobody  would  cast  all  men  out 
of  the  ministry.  We  are  under 
constant  scrutiny,  more  so  than 
male  preachers. 

DRUM  -  What  are  your  reactions  to  the 
legalities  of  the  separation  of 
churches  and  how  does  it  affect 
your  minstry? 

ROBIN  -Historically,  I  can  see  why  the 
separation  exists.  If  we  consider 
the  exodus  of  the  founding 
fathers  from  Europe,  and  their 


56 


quest  for  religious  freedom,  we 
can  understand  their  establishing 
a  new  government  in  a  new 
country  and  how  they  felt  a 
need  to  safeguard  their  freedom 
of  religious  expression  by  setting 
up  leaglities  to  insure  that  the 
government  or  no  government 
official  is  inhibiting  thier  right  to 
worship.  I  think  by  virtue  of 
being  a  minister  at  a  state  in- 
stitution, I  have  freedom.  Had  I 
been  employed  by  the  Univer- 
sity, I  would  not  have  the  same 
freedom.  This  freedom  is  parti- 
cularly helpful  when  it  comes  to 
sticky  issues.  I  can't  be  threaten- 
ed or  fired  by  the  University 
because  I  am  not  employed  by 
the  university  to  begin  with. 
It  assures  ministers  a  certain 
kind  of  freedom  so  that  we  can 
stand  up  for  what  we  believe  in. 
In  a  theological  context,  it  al- 
lows us  to  remain  as  protection 
for  and  against  the  institution 
when  we  see  injustices. 

DRUM  -  What  is  the  importance  of 
Black  Theology? 

ROBIN  -  Black  theology  developed  as 
the  theological  aim  of  the  Black 
Power  movement  in  the  1960's. 
I  feel  that  it  is  a  good  theology 
in  terms  of  upholding  Blackness. 
It  doesn't  present  to  us  namby- 
pamby,  weak-kneed,  blond- 
haired,  blue-eyed  Jesus.  Instead 
it  presents  a  Jesus  who  was 
strong.;  a  Jesus  who  was  and  is 
acquainted  with  the  sufferings 
of  Black  people;  who  serves  as 
our  liberator;  who  stands  against 
injustice  and  impression  and  a 
Jesus  who  considers  us  his  own 
by  virtue  of  having  shared  our 
oppression  and  having  endured. 
Black  Theology  upholds  that 
Jesus  was  Black,  not  in  terms  of 
pigmentation,  but  Black  in  terms 
of  his  own  consciousness,  having 
been  descendents  of  slaves,  hav- 
ing been  part  of  an  economically 
oppressed  people  --  Jews  in  times 
of  Roman  dominion.  And  Blacks 
in  this  country  are  politically, 
economically,  and  socially  op- 
pressed. Black  people  have  been 
misunderstood,  isolated  and 
"custified"  ultimately  in  a  way 
that  makes  them  psychologically 
strainted.      Our     identies      are 


"custified".  Everything  that  is 
bad  is  black.  If  you  go  to  a 
funeral,  you  wear  black.  If  you 
have  been  framed,  you  have 
been  blackballed.  If  you  are  on 
the  wrong  foot  with  someone, 
you  have  been  blacklisted. 
Everything  in  this  country  that 
is  Black  has  a  negative  conota- 
tion  to  it.  Theology  makes  Black 
into  something  righteous,  as 
much  as  Jesus  has  shared  our 
consciousness  and  is  all-right- 
eous. I  Uke  what  it  does  in  pre- 
senting a  positive  image  of 
what  Black  is.  However,  Black 
liberation  Thoelogy  lacks  a  fem- 
inist consciousness.  W^at  Black 
feminist  theologians  are  saying  is 
that  we  can  affirm  the  need 
for  a  Black  Christ  but  we  also 
have  to  take  our  rhetoric  about 
liberation  and  be  wholeistic  in 
application.  Black  thoelogy  must 
also  address  the  liberation  of 
Black  women.  Liberation  must 
be  wholistic  and  inclusive.  I  and 
my  sister  theologians  must  hold 
Black  theology  in  accountabil- 
ity. 

DRUM  -  How  do  you  feel  about  1983? 

ROBIN  -  I  don't  fell  that  this  country 
has  made  any  progress  in  1983. 
I  am  not  very  optimistic  about 
how  this  year  has  transpired 
politically  or  economically.  I 
don't  feel  that  we  £ire  any  closer 
to  establishing  a  nation  that  is 
leagally  just  and  a  nation  in 
which  every  american  is  a  first 
class  citizen.  Racism,  classism, 
sexism,  agism  still  exist  and  are 
indeed  growing  strong  in  this 
country.  My  pessimism  is  fed  by 
the  lack  of  responsiveness  by  the 
Reagan  administration  to  the 
needs  of  the  poor.  The  growing 
number  of  people  who  are  dis- 
placed and  homeless;  the  grow- 
ing number  of  people  who  are 
hungry  in  this  country;  the 
number  of  people  who  are  un- 
employed need  indicate  that 
we  have  a  long  way  to  go  and 
that  we  to  radically  assess  our 
values  and  hold  our  govern- 
ment in  accountability.  We  can't 
talk  about  liberation,  we  can- 
not talk  about  having  every 
american  fed  and  having  the 
opportunity    to    pursue    liberty 


and  happiness  when  we  are  talk- 
ing money  from  the  poor, 
money  programs  designated  to 
help  the  poor  and  buying  mx 
missies.  There  is  something 
wrong  when  we  uphold  war 
uphold  the  welfare  of  our 
people.  I  think  the  events  of 
this  year,  for  example  the 
shooting  down  of  the  Korean  air 
flight  have  gone  to  feed  an  ill 
pathology,  orientated  towards 
war.  The  Reagan  adminsitration 
used  this  situation  to  justify  the 
wasteful  spending  of  warfare. 
Our  technology  is  continuing  to 
grow  while  our  capacity  for 
compassion  is  dwindling  in  lieu 
of  the  spirit  of  militarism.  All 
of  that  says  we  are  heading  to- 
wards self-annihilation.  Only  by 
cultivating  spirit  of  peace  and 
understanding  do  we  ever  begin 
to  reverse  the  military  process 
that  has  begun  to  escalate  in 
this  country  in  1983. 
DRUM  -  Thank  you  Miss.  Harden. 


DRUM  -  Thank  you  Sister  Harden. 


57 


THE  HISTORICAL  EYE 


by  Larry  IMeal 


Art  teaches  some  awesome  lessons 
about  the  human  condition.  One  of 
the  specific  lessons  it  teaches  is  that 
history,  a  people's  memory  and  record 
of  themselves,  is  often  a  tricky  cluster 
of  contradictions.  Thus,  we  constantly 
find  ourselves  grappling  with  the  mean- 
ing of  history.  We  are  very  much  like 
those  mythic  heroes  of  the  narrative 
epics  who,  having  crossed  the  rivers  of 
fire,  must  now  defeat  the  chimera  on 
his  own  ground.  For  us  the  chimera  is 
history  with  its  fire  breathing  contra- 
dictions and  weird  distortions. 

As  late  children  of  the  West,  we  are 
of  necessity  goaded  on  by  the  demons 
of  historical  progress.  Yes,  we  are  a 
profound  people  who  have  audaci- 
ously struggled  to  create  an  eloquent 
and  life  sustaining  response  to  an 
often  hostile  world.  Hence,  from  the 
perspective  of  drama,  Afro-American 
history  places  before  us  a  pantheon  of 
warriors  and  system  builders.  But  this 
pantheon  is  itself  full  of  conflicting 
ideas,  idols,  and  attitudes  towards  his- 
tory's true  and  false  prophets.  And  we, 
who  are  the  active  agents  and  witness- 
es of  history,  are  constantly  being  ex- 
horted to  negotiate  these  conflicting 
visions  about  how  history  should  be 
perceived  and  felt. 

This  is  so  because  these  conflicting 
voices  all  assume  and  imperative,  and 
hence    compelling    tone.    Some    voices 


urge  a  state  of  continous  war.  These 
demand  forceful  action.  And  then  there 
are  the  others  who  caution  restraint 
and  reliance  on  patience,  and  the 
so-called  traditonal  values. 

But  sometimes  in  the  deepest,  most 
sincere  part  of  ourselves,  we  sense  that 
none  of  the  voices  is  absolutely  correct. 
It  is  then  that  we  are  confronted  with 
the  disconcerting  notion  that  the 
historical  mode  is  essentially  formless 
and  chaotic.  It  is  at  that  point  that  we 
turn  to  prayer  or  to  art.  For  art  (image 
making)  is  fundamentally  one  of  the 
ways  in  which  humankind  imposes 
order  and  form  on  the  debris  of  his- 
tory. 

This  is  what  comes  to  mind  as 
I  mediate  on  Nelson  Stevens'  glorious 
visual  celebration  of  the  "idea  of  Tus- 
kegee."  Here  in  this  self-contained  vi- 
sual universe  all  of  the  contrary  voices 
coalsece  into  a  comprehensive  artistic 
vision.  As  rendered  here  all  of  the  im- 
ages strongly  exude  a  sense  of  vitality 
and  purpose.  They  all  seem  blessed  as 
their  faces  appear  to  be  illumined  by 
light  from  some  mysterious  source.  For 
the  movement  from  darkness  (ignor- 
ance) to  light  (intelligence)  is  a  reoc- 
curing pattern  in  Afro- American  histor- 
ical narratives.  The  mural  is  "Narrative" 
in  that  it  is  impossible  to  encounter 
it  without  "reading"  something  into 
it.  Hence  for  me,  the  mural  is  an  epic 


saga  on  Afro-American  leadership. 

So,  and  when  the  stories  of  the  mural 
are  recounted;  and  when  the  various 
mythologies  have  been  stated  and 
counter-stated,  it  will  be  obvious  to 
all  that  though  the  mural  is  inspired 
by  the  "idea  Tuskegee,"  it  finally 
reaches  beyond  that  specific  reference 
to  celebrate  the  special  will  of  a  great 
people  who,  like  the  Biblical  Joseph, 
managed  to  prevail  in  an  alien  land. 

It  will  be  well  to  remember  the 
words  of  Dr.  Booker  T.  Washington, 
when  he  paid  tribute  to  the  self-libera- 
tors in  the  great  Tuskegee  Institute 
Story  by  his  statement  that:  "Tuskegee 
Institute  has  been  built  up  and  has 
been  sustained  largely  through  the  co- 
operation of  a  number  of  individuals 
who  have  been  willing  to  stand  by  it, 
who  ahve  been  willing  to  sacrifice  their 
all,  who  have  worked  in  season  and  out 
of  season  in  order  that  it  might  suc- 
ceed", (quoted  from  E.  Davidson  Wash- 
ington, ed.,  "Selected  Speeches  of 
Booker  T.  Washinton"  Garden  City, 
N.Y.:  Doubleday,  Droan  and  Company, 
Inc.,  1932,  p.  272).  The  Founder  paid 
this  tribute  in  his  last  Sunday  evening 
address  to  the  students,  faculty,  staff 
and  administrators  in  the  Tuskegee 
Chapel  on  October  17,  1915,  less  than 
a  month  before  he  died  on  November 
14,1915. 


"TUSKEGEE  INSTITUTE-RENOWNED 

MATRIX  OF  A  GREAT 

SELF-LIBERATION  MOVEMENT" 


"Centennial  Vison— Tuskegee  Insti- 
tute" decipts  the  far-sighted  leadership 
and  historical  achievements  of  Tuskegee 
Institute  during  one  hundred  years  of 
service  as  a  learning  center  for  thou- 
sands of  hopeful  students,  most  of 
whom    have    been    victimized    by    the 


evils  of  slavery.  Few  institutions  have 
launched  out  with  such  meager  re- 
sources and  served  mankind  in  so  many 
useful  ways  as  are  reflected  in  the  Cen- 
tennial record  of  Tuskegee  Institute. 
This  mural  emphasizes  a  most  impor- 
tant factor  of  this  record  by  portray- 


ing some  of  the  time-tested  responses 
to  the  wisdom  of  Lord  Byron's  chal- 
lenge to  the  enslaved  peoples  of  the 
world  in  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage, 
when  he  wrote: 

"Hereditary  bondsmen!  Know  ye  not 
Who  would  be  free  themselves  must 
strike  the  blow?" 
This  is  an  asset  which  sets  Tuskegee 
Institute  apart  from  other  institu- 
tions and  exalts  its  true  greatness  that 
its  administrators,  faculty,  staff,  stu- 
dents and  alumni  have  continually 
struck  self-liberation  blows  for  free- 
dom in  the  first  one  hundred  years  of 
existance. 


58 


strides  toward  self-liberation  that 
led  to  the  founding  of  Tuskegee  Insti- 
tute were  first  made  by  Lewis  Adams, 
who  rose  from  slavery  to  operate 
his  own  trade  shop  in  downtown 
Tuskegee,  Alabama,  where  he  was 
recognized  as  a  black  leader  in  the 
post-Civil  War  era.  When  youthful 
freedmen  asked  for  apprenticeships 
in  Adams'  shop  he  accepted  as  many 
of  them  as  he  could  spare  time  and 
space  for  instruction  in  his  tinsmith, 
harnessmaking  and  shoemakeing  trades. 
When  his  business  became  over-crowded 
with  potential  learners,  Adams  struck 
a  second  blow  for  freedom  by  agreeing 
to  secure  the  black  vote  to  help  re- 
elect Colonel  Wilber  F.  Foster  and 
Attorney  Arthur  L.  Brooks,  both 
Tuskegee  residents,  to  the  Alabama 
House  of  Representatives  in  exchange 
for  their  promotion  of  legislation  to 
create  a  Normal  School  for  black 
people  in  the  community.  When  House 
Bill  165  was  introduced  by  Brooks  for 
this  purpose,  it  passed  in  both  houses 
of  the  Legislature  and  Governor  Rufus 
W.  Cobb  signed  it  on  February  12, 1881 
—the  birth  anniversary  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,  the  Great  Emancipator.  And, 
thus  the  spirit  of  liberation  was  reco- 
gnized and  honored  in  official  quarters, 
also. 

Showing  early  promise  as  a  self- 
liberator,  youthful  Booker  T.  Wash- 
ington was  recommended  by  Hampton 
Institute's  principal,  Samuel  Chapman 
Armstrong,  to  State  Commissioners 
George  W.  Campbell  and  Lewis  Adams 
for  appointment  as  the  first  principal 
of  the  proposed  Tuskegee  Normal 
School.  Washington  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge and  opened  the  school  with  thirty 
students  and  himself  as  the  only  teacher 
on  a  special  liberation  holiday— July  4, 
1881,  the  105th  anniversary  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  He  faced 
the  educaitonal  and  economic  obstacles 
before  him  and  his  students  in  the 
spirit  of  such  great  black  abolition- 
ists as  Frederick  Douglass,  his  hero 
whom  he  would  honor  with  a  biography 
he  would  publish  later;  Sojourner 
Truth,  the  female  orator  of  "Is  God 
Dead?"  fame;  Harriet  Tubman,  who 
liberated  herself  and  over  300  slaves 
over  the  Underground  Railroad.  Wash- 
ington found  the  time  in  his  busy 
schedule  to  inspire  the  hopeful  students 
I  with  information  about  these  self- 
j  liverators  and  many  others,  including 
Joseph  Cinque  and  his  daring  exploits 
in    the  successful  slave  revolt   on  the 


Amistad,  a  slave  transport  ship. 

Meanwhile,  Dr.  Washington's  reputa- 
tion as  an  educator  grew  with  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Tuskegee  Normal  School- 
in  terms  of  increasing  student  enroll- 
ment, adding  personnel  to  carry  out  the 
program,  and  expanding  plant  facilities. 
More  and  more,  his  services  as  a  coun- 
selor and  public  speaker  on  community 
affairs  were  sought,  and  these  activities 
brought  him  into  contact  with  such 
black  leaders  as  Hon.  Frederick  Dou- 
glass, who  supported  the  school  and 
came  to  deliver  the  1892  Commence- 
ment address;  Ida  B.  Wells  Barnett, 
who  rose  from  slavery  to  lead  one  of  the 
first  anti-lynching  crusades  and  to  help 
in  founding  the  NAACP;  Dr.  W.E.B. 
DuBois,  the  best  trained  black  scholar 
of  his  day  and  a  co-founder  of  the 
NAACP,  who  served  on  the  Summer 
School  faculty  of  the  Tuskeegee  Normal 

and  Industrial  School  in  1903. 

Dynamic  and  creative  leadership  in 
educational  and  community  affairs 
became  a  tradition,  as  revelent  pro- 
grams for  school  and  community 
were  among  the  highlights  of  the 
presidential  administrations  of  Dr. 
Robert;  Russa  Moton  (1916-1935);  Dr. 
Frederick  D.  Patterson  (1935-1953); 
and  Dr.  Luther  H.  Foster  (1953-  ). 
Some  of  these  outstanding  develop- 
ments were:  the  National  Negro 
Business  League,  which  Dr.  Washington 
founded  in  1900;  Veterans  Admini- 
stration Hospital— Number  91,  estab- 
lished in  1922  under  the  direction  of 
black  hospital  administrators  largely 
through  the  efforts  and  influence  of 
Dr.  Moton:  the  Arm  Air  Corps  Avia- 
tion Cadet  Program  that  Dr.  Patterson 
in  1943;  and  the  National  Historic 
Site  that  was  established,  as  the  first 
of  its  kind  at  a  predominatly  black  in- 
stitution, through  the  leadership  sup- 
plied by  Dr.  Foster  and  his  staff.  While 
all  of  these  programs  were  nationally 
significant,  the  Army  Air  Corps  Avia- 
tion Cadet  Program  expanded  to  inter- 
national proportions  when  it  produced 
the  black  pilots  of  the  99th  Pursuit 
Squadron  and  the  332nd  Fighter 
Group  that  were  among  the  Allied 
forces  that  successfully  engaged  the 
Axis  powers'  air  fighters  in  the  skies 
of  the  Mediterranean  Sea  area  in 
Wold  War  IL  Also,  a  Tuskegee  alum- 
nus. General  Daniel  "Chappie"  James 
reflected  very  favorable  credit  upon 
his  training  in  this  program  by  flying 
101  combat  missions  in  the  Korean 
War     and    seventy-eight     missions    in 


the  Vietnam  conflict,  with  distinc- 
tion, prior  to  becoming  the  first  black 
four-star  general  in  the  history  of  the 
United  States. 

Dr.  Washington's  successors  con- 
tinued his  practice  of  exposing  the  stu- 
dents to  community  issues  and  leaders, 
as  a  variety  of  self-liberators  came  to 
the  campus  during  each  presidential 
administration.  Among  them  were:  Dr. 
Mary  McCloud  Bethune,  who  founded 
Bethune-Cookman  College  in  1904 
with  five  students  and  only  one  dollar 
and  fifty  cents  in  financial  resources; 
Paul  Robeson,  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
scholar  and  All-American  football  play- 
er at  Rutgers  College  who  became  inter- 
nationally famous  as  an  actor  and  a 
baritone  singer;  Malcolm  X,  the  mili- 
tant and  eloquent  advocate  of  Black 
Nationalism  who  defected  from  the 
Black  Muslim  movement  and  was 
assassinated,  several  years  later;  Dr. 
Martin  Luther  King,  Jr.  internationally 
recognized  apostle  of  non-violence  who 
won  the  1964  Nobel  Peace  Prize  for 
his  leadership  of  the  mid-Twentieth 
Century  Black  Revolt. 

Realizing  that  the  vitality  of  a  true 
democracy  requires  that  the  student's 
education  will  be  directed  toward  a 
high  role  in  helping  to  improve  the 
world  community,  Tuskegee  Institute 
has  continually  oriented  its  program 
toward  the  total  development  of  alumni 
fully  prepared  to  serve  as  productive 
citizens  in  society.  This  approach  ex- 
posed all  persons  at  this  institution  to 
an 

open  forum  of  issues  and  personalities 
over  the  first  one  hundred  years.  This  is 
best  illustrated  in  the  coming  of  Marcus 
Garvey  to  the  United  States  from  his 
native  Jamaica  in  1916  to  promote  the 
growth  of  his  Universal  Negro  Improve- 
ment Association  and  sponsor  a  "Back 
to  Africa"  movement,  after  he  had  been 
encouraged  to  make  the  trip  in  corres- 
pondence he  exchanged  with  Dr. 
Washington.  Of  this  experience,  he  later 
wrote:  "I  visited  Tuskegee  and  paid  my 
respects  to  the  dead  hero,  Booker 
Washington,  and  then  returned  to 
New  York,  where  I  organized  the  New 
York  division  of  the  Universal  Negro 
Improvement  Association."  (quoted 
from  Amy  Jacques  Garvey,  ed..  Philo- 
sophy and  Opinions  of  Marcus  Garvey, 
vol.  II  New  York:  Atheneum,  1969, 
p.  128). 


59 


CENTENNIAL  VISION 

by  Toni  Cade  Bambara 


In  the  60's  when  poets  took  to  the 
streets,  artists  made  galleries  of  the 
outdoors.  And  once  again  we  rediscov- 
ered in  our  neighborhoods  and  in 
ourselves  the  motive,  subject,  audi- 
ence, and  the  style  for  our  expression. 
Artists,  writers,  musicians  and  other 
cultural  workers  became  engaged  in 
defining  the  nature  of  the  Black  art 
character,  how  and  why  it  does  what 
it  does.  Africobra/Farafindgu,  the 
visual  art  collective  that  sprang  from 
Chicago's  OBAC,  spearheaded  the  Out- 
door Mural  Movement  in  the  United 
States  with  the  Wall  of  Respect  in  1967 
made  indelible  on  urban  walls  those 
features  we  have  come  to  expect  and 
appreciate  from  our  interpreters— per- 
formance, celebration,  communalism. 

When  Nelson  Stevens  mounts  the 
scaffold  with  a  cigarette  behind  the 
ear,  technique  and  research  under  the 
belt,  his  official  master  artist  outdoor 
mural  hat  (that  one  with  the  blue 
snake  carrying  pyramid  on  its  back) 
clamped  ace  duce  on  his  head,  the  per- 
formance with  paint  is  bound  to  be 
public  and  collaborative.  His  40  mur- 
als to  date,  executed  most  usually  with 
students  and  community  workers,  im- 
mediately arrest  the  attention  of  our 
foremost  critics— the  passerby  folks  of 
the  neighborhood,  who  witness  daily 
the  building  up  of  statements  through 
color,  line,  rhythm,  texture,  and  home 
based  iconography. 

"Say,  that  whirlwind  of  blues  and 
reds  goes  on  next  to  those  sitting  still 
panels— is  that  to  represent  the  winds 
of  change,  Bro?  That's  deep.  That's 
good.  Check  you  later." 
The  Tuskegee  Centennial  Mural  to 
celebrate  the  Institute  and  its  mission, 
presented  artist  Nelson  with  an  espe- 
cial challenge— how  to  collaborate  with 


one  hundred  years  of  history.  "I  AM 
BECAUSE  WE  ARE"  draws  us  into 
the  12  x  26  mural.  A  statement  that 
hallmarks  Black  practice  in  art,  litera- 
ture, music  and  the  dance— private 
expression  derived  from  group  mores 
rendered  for  public  ends,  the  blend  of 
the  collective  history  and  the  interpret- 
ing eye,  the  melding  of  the  worker's 
craft  and  the  processes  of  the  commu- 
nity that  supports,  sustains,  and  offers 
up  its  lore  for  transmutation  by  the 
artist. 

The  statement  also  heralds  the 
achievements  of  the  early  builders, 
who  in  carrying  out  the  Booker  T. 
Washington  directive,  "Learn  by  Do- 
ing," fashioned  an  interdependent, 
self-sufficient  communtiy  at  Tuskegee. 
In  the  cutting  and  measuring  of  a  cord 
of  wood,  in  the  mixing  and  curing  of  a 
ton  of  bricks,  one  mastered  math  and 
chemistry  and  contributed  to  the 
resources  of  the  Institute.  In  working 
with  the  sweet  potato,  in  mining  the 
mysteries  of  the  African  goober,  one 
balanced  the  diet,  balanced  the  bud- 
get, and  expanded  the  whole  field  of 
agronomy.  Further,  the  statement  re- 
minds us  that  our  very  existence  in 
these  times  was  decreed  to  us  by  those 
who  came  before,  and  lived  by  the  law 
of  the  Black  ethos— responsibility  to  the 
group. 

When  Harriet  Tubman  crossed  the 
border,  she  might  have  sat  down  for  a 
leisurely  cup  of  coffee,  might  have 
draped  a  shawl  around  her  shoulders 
and  settled  comfortable  into  the 
hearth-side  rocker,  humming  out  the 
rest  of  her  days.  But  she  didn't.  She 
took  respnonsibility  for  what  she 
knew— that  there  is  no  life  of  honor  for 
the  "I"  when  the  "we"  are  penned  up 
and    down    pressed.    With    a   price   on 


her  head— and  with  no  government 
stipend,  mind  you,  to  conduct  a  feasibi- 
lity study  before  hand— she  went  back 
again  and  again  to  break  the  Family 
out  of  prison. 

Ida  B.  Wells,  owner  of  the  Memphis 
Free  Press,  could  well  have  succumbed 
to  "professionalism"  and  negotiated  a 
private  (read  fraudulent)  peace  with  out 
tormentors.  She  chose  instead  to  be 
responsible  to  her  eyes,  to  become  a 
danger,  to  move  on  what  she  saw  out 
of  the  window  as  a  lynch  mob  armed 
with  rope  kerosene  and  The  Fugitive 
Slave  Act  sought  to  snatch  back  into  a 
final  captivity  this  time,  those  runaway 
Bloods  they  had  cornered.  Strapping 
on  her  pistols  and  stepping  out  into  the 
street,  she  formed  in  less  than  five 
minutes  the  first  anti-lynching  league  in 
America.  Her  relentless  crusade  for  jus- 
tice as  an  organizer,  as  a  disturber  of  the 
bogus  peace  was  always  in  reponse  to 
the  constraints  imposed  on  our  people. 
"I  AM  BECAUSE  WE  ARE." 

A  hero  is  not  some  self-birthed  crea- 
ture, uniquely  remarkable,  singularly 
significant.  A  hero  is  a  member  of  the 
group  that  puts  us  in  touch  with  the 
best  of  ourselves  and  calls  us  to  some- 
thing higher  than  participation  in  self 
ambush:  a  model,  one  who  exemplifies 
what  is  characteristically  us.  The  tote- 
mic  figures  in  Nelson  Stevens'  paintings, 
or  the  larger  than  life  sense  of  the  heroic 
heads  in  the  new  mural  is  a  call  to  do 
justice  to  our  most  basic  nature,  a 
reminder  of  what  is  characteristic  of 
ourselves. 

George  Washington  Carver,  one  of 
the  principal  figures  in  Tuskegee's  his- 
tory, and  a  central  presence  in  the 
Centennial  Mural  demonstrated  in  his 
work  with  crop  items,  an  aspect  of 
Black      genius      persistently      observ- 


60 


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61 


able— the  ability  to  make  something 
from  nothing.  Season  in  and  season 
out  we  have  pulled  gardens  out  of 
stone;  have  taken  the  throw  aways 
and  the  non  prime  cuts  and  created  a 
presitge  cuisine.  Have  rescued  from 
the  dump  battered  cigar  boxes  and 
dented  no.  3  tubs  and  transformed  them 
into  instruments  of  music.  Rescued 
the  sax  from  the  pratfall  constraints  of 
burlesque,  and  developed  it  into  a 
front-line  soloist's  axe.  Have  taken 
Mickey  Mouse  tunes  and  Tin  Pan 
Alley  formula  melodies  and  trans- 
formed them  into  unforgettable  jazz 
classics.  We,  as  people,  have  consis- 
tently pushed  past  Wasteland  con- 
straints in  our  search  for  beauty  and 
justice  and  autonomy.  Pushed  past  the 
theory  and  practice  of  America,  its 
political  (de)  arrangements,  it  eco- 
nomic and  social  (un)  orthodoxies,  its 
(an)  aesthetics  in  our  continual  search 
for  new  space  and  new  beginnings. 

Booker  T.  Washington,  master- 
strategist  of  the  Brer  Rabbit  ploy,  se- 
cured a  space  for  stoop-labor  students 
and  cramped-quartered  teachers  to 
stand  up  in  and  begin  anew.  Behind 
the  head  of  Booker  T.  are  panels  in 
blues  of  the  Kech  monument  depicting 
Washington  "lifting  the  veil  fo  ignor- 
ance" as  people  were  wont  to  say  in 
those  days,  from  the  shoulders  of  a 
brother,  sinewy  with  potential  about 
to  rise.  Whose  stroke  of  genius  was  it 
to  use  a  wall  with  a  vertical  dominant 
thrust  to  draw  the  viewer  continually 
up  and  still  further  up?  But  then,  what 
has  been  the  sign  post  of  Africobra 
artists  and  other  cultural  workers  that 
came  of  age  in  the  Neo-Black  Arts 
Movement  is  the  recognition  that  the 
task  of  the  Black  artist  is  to  be  a  healer, 
to  re-align  the  communities  political 
and  spiritual  loyalties. 

Among  the  many  remarkable  things 
that  strike  the  viewer  is  the  artist's 
impartial  and  respectful  embrace  of 
seemingly  contrary  figures— Booker  T. 
and  W.E.B.,  Robeson  and  Mary  McLeod 
Bethune,  for  example.  The  stunning 
appearance  of  international  figures  such 
as  Malcom  X  and  Marcus  Garvey  might 
strike  some  as  gratuitous  additions, 
until  we  recall  that  it  was  Booker  T. 
who  first  invited  Garvey  to  the  States, 
and  until  we  consider  the  particular 
mix  of  forces  it  takes,  at  a  given  point 
in  our  process,  to  give  us  a  range  of 
reasons  and  to  create  space  within 
which  to  get  up  and  keep  getting  up. 


Completing  the  compositon  of  heroes 
are  those  past  and  current  figures  of 
the  immediate  community— The  Tus- 
kegee  Airmen  of  the  99th  Pursuit 
Squadron,  the  author  of  House  Bill 
165  that  secured  the  histitute's  site, 
previous  college  presidents  with  its 
current  leader  in  the  foreground.  Dr. 
Luther  Foster. 

What  seems  to  intrigue  those  who 
daily  come  in  contact  with  the  mural 
is  its  invitation  to  explore  the  whole 
section  by  section.  One  finds,  in  moving 
from  the  lobby  of  the  adminstration 
building  to  the  upper  gallery  stories 
on  either  side,  nuances  of  feeling, 
rouches  of  wit,  new  statement/relation- 
ships missed  in  previous  encounters. 
Moving  into  the  Carver  test-tube  area, 
for  example,  one  discovers  the  ingre- 
dients that  give  rise  to  the  polyrhythmic 
climate  that  sets  the  foot  tapping- 
butterflies  in  flight,  aliting,  and  at  rest; 
bubbling  brews  in  a  rolling  boil;  the 
steady  march  of  flat  tile  design  sweet 
potato  plants  one  after  the  other; 
and  on  the  lip  of  one  turbulant  test 
tube,  a  quaint  and  sentimental  (in  the 
best  sense  of  the  word)  touch— Carver's 
hibiscus  flower,  and  echo  of  the  sweet 
potato  buds  above.  The  eye  then  tends 
to  travel  to  an  area  of  stasis— the  early 
buildings  of  the  Institute,  rendered  in 
crisp,  prescisioned  architectural  lines 
and  planes.  The  metronymic  sensibility 
that  informs  the  work  and  the  employ- 
ment of  repetitive  motif  thoughout  are 
not  the  least  bit  surprising  in  the  light  of 
the  artist's  affinity  to  music.  Music  and 
musicians  are  frequent  subjects  in  his 
paintings,  visual  equivalents  of  the  Black 
music  aesthetic.  Black  polyrhythms, 
and  improvisational  process.  In  addition 
to  murals,  prints  and  book  cover  de- 
signs, Nelson  Stevens  had  also  designed 
numerous  album  covers:  Archie  Shepp's 
"Cry  of  My  People"  '73,  and  "There's 
a  trouble  in  My  Soul"  '75,  Max  Roach- 
es's  "Froces"  '76,  and  Marion  Brown's 
"Solo  Saxophone"  '77. 

Finally  the  Centennial  Mural  is  no 
less  musical  in  orientation  than  the 
"Singing  Windows"  of  the  Chapel,  ad- 
jacent to  the  Administration  building. 
Both  are  comprehensive  testaments  to 
the  courage  of  the  initial  group  of  men 
and  women  who  gathered  in  the  one- 
room  school  house  on  July  4,  1881  to 
begin  the  honorable  work  that  is  still 
an  imperative  in  these  time— the  build- 
ing of  Black  Institutions. 


62 


by  James  Baldwin 


On  April  4,  1984,  James  Baldwin  ad- 
dressed the  topic:  "Message  from  the 
Profits"  before  a  capacity  audience  at 
Simon's  Rock  of  Bard  College,  Great 
Barrington,  Massachusetts.  The  intro- 
duction of  Mr.  Baldwin  and  his  topic 
was  given  by  Professor  Homer  L.  Meade, 
of  the  DuBois  Department  of  Afro- 
American  Studies  and  adjunct  faculty 
member  of  Simon's  Rock  of  Bard  Col- 
lege. 

It  would  be  sufficient  in  an  introduc- 
tion to  higiiligiit  tlie  awards  and  worlds 
of  the  special  guest  so  many  have  come 
to  hear.  James  Bladwin,  recipient  of  the 
Eugene  F.  Saxton  Memorial  Trust 
Award,  Rosenwald  Fellowship,  Guggen- 
heim Fellowship,  National  Institute  of 
Arts  and  Letters  Grant,  Ford  Founda- 
tion Grant,  author  of  "Go  Tell  it  on 
the  Mountain,"  "Notes  of  a  Native 
Son",  "The  Amen  Comer",  "Giovanni's 
Room",  "Nobody  Knows  My  Name", 
"Another  Country",  "The  Fire  Next 
Time",  "Blues  for  Mr.  Charlie",  "Noth- 
ing Personal",  "Going  to  Meet  the 
Man",  "Tell  Me  How  Long  the  Train's 
Been  Gone",  "A  Rap  on  Race",  "No 
Name  in  the  Street",  "One  Day  When 
I  Was  Lost",  "If  Beale  Street  Could 
Talk",  "Just  Above  My  Head".  In  such 
Baldwin  and  his  work  have  been  sub- 
jects of  essays  the  naming  of  which 
would  go  beyond  my  short  time  alloted 
to  make  this  introduction. 

For  the  sake  of  time  then  I  will  say 
the  following:  that  it  has  been  in  five 
decades  that  James  Baldwin  has  been  a 
voice  calling  to  those  who  would  wish 


to  save  themselves  and  their  culture 
fromthe  infections  and  affectations 
which  ignorance,  racism,  and  prejudice 
breed. 

For  those  of  us  who  have  not  seen 
the  pain  that  hatred  spawns,  for  those 
of  us  who  have  not  felt  the  exhilara- 
tion which  the  true  artist  of  the  word 
can  create,  for  those  of  us  who  have 
remained  sealed  safe  inside  the  pro- 
tective womb  of  democracy  dispensed 
rather  than  democratic  principles  en- 
sured to  all,  and  for  those  of  us  with 
James  Baldwin  who  have  experienced 
all  of  this  and  know  all  too  well  that  we 
have  battles  yet  to  fight  .  .  .  For  all  of 
us,  to  all  of  us,  James  Baldwin  has 
spoken,  written,  walked  and  talked. 

In  1957  he  traveled  to  be  with  Mar- 
tin in  Montgomery,  in  1963  he  traveled 
to  Carnegie  Hall  to  be  with  Martin,  in 
April,  1968  he  traveled  to  Atlanta  to  be 
with  Martin.  And  in  addition  to  his  as- 
sociation with  Martin  Luther  King,  the 
names  of  those  with  whom  James  Bald- 
win has  worked  reads  as  a  Who's  Who  of 
Internaitonal  politics,  literature. 

The  highest  level  of  the  artist  as 
James  Joyce  describes  the  artist  must 
possess  the  power  of  creation,  i.e.  the 
male  and  female  elements  within  one- 
self so  that  one  creates  what  the 
readers/viewers/listeners  have  known  all 
along.  A  classic. 

This  is  the  case  for  us  tonight  -  so 
much  labor  by  James  Baldwin  has 
brought  us  the  reward  of  sharing  this 
evening:  "Messages  From  the  Prophets". 
Ladies,  Gentlemen,  James  Baldwin. 


I  am  very  glad  to  be  here  tonight  in 
Great  Barrington,  the  home  place,  the 
birth  place  of  Mr.  W.E.B.  DuBois.  For 
some  reason,  I  am  thinking  of  postage 
stamps,  birthdays,  celebrations,  who  is 
honored  in  this  countrj',  and  who  is 
not. 

One  might  say  for  example,  that  it 
is  ridicilous  if  not  impertinent  to  have 
a  Black  history  month.  It  is  certainly 
significant  that  one  suppose  that  Black 
history  can  be  isolated  from  American 
history,  and  to  see  it  all  in  a  certain 
month.  I  thought  it  was  very  cunning 
and  it  reminded  me  of  something  that 
happened  to  me  in  Philadelphia  where 
there  is  a  liberty  bell  which  is  cracked. 

I  was  with  Tony  Morrison,  one  of  my 
very  good  friends,  we  were  having  a 
bite  to  eat  before  we  went  back  on 
stage.  The  waitress,  who  was  legally 
White,  said  "I  reminded  her  of  Louis 
Armstrong",  and  Tony  did  not  take  that 
well.  Tony  then  said,  "You  remind  me 
of  George  Washington".  The  waitress 
said,  "I  don't  understand  that".  Tony 
said,  "look  on  the  back  of  a  dollar". 
Now  I  tell  you  that  story  because  you 
live  in  a  kind  of  hall  of  mirrors  in  this 
country,  in  which  the  waitress  was  com- 
pietly  astounded.  She  thought  I  didn't 
know  what  she  thought  of  my  being 
compared  to  Louis  Armstrong,  in  fact  I 
adore  Louis  Armstrong.  I  don't  particul- 
arly look  like  him,  and  the  reason  that  I 
don't  look  particularly  like  him  is  be- 
cause I  don't  look  like  him.  I  look  like 
him  according  to  the  people  in  the  hall 
of  mirrors  in  which  they  do  not  see 
anybody  except  what  they  think  is 
themselves. 

I  would  like  it  to  be  as  simple  as  pos- 
sible, but  history  is  complex.  History 
is  imprecise  because  it  is  "not"  so  much 
denied  which  is  one  thing.  Everybody  is 
not   history   one  way   or  another,  the 


63 


LISTEN  TO  THE  BANANA  PEEL 


PAUL  GOODNIGHT 


64 


DRUM  SALUTES  THE  ELDER  DIGGERS 


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* 

JOHN  BIGGERS 


65 


French   is   not   a  history,  The  English 
is   not   a   history.   The   real  history  of 
Europe     written     by    Europeans,    the 
history     of    France,    for    example    is 
written  by  an  English  man  is  one  his- 
tory, not  true  at  all.  To  read  the  same 
history  written  by  an  Englishman  is  not 
a  history.  There  is  no  history  effectively 
of  Ireland,  there  is  no  history  really  of 
Spain.   We   have   a   peculiar  system  of 
vocabulary    design    to    do    one    thing. 
History  until  this  hour  in  the  western 
world  is  a  kind  of  hymn  to  White  peo- 
ple. Now  let  us  try  to  examine  what  it 
means  to  be  White.  It  only  matters  in 
a  most  crucial  way  in  this  most  peculiar 
and  most  crucial  country  and  if  I  seem 
to   be   a  little  persistent  on  this,  it  is 
because  I'm  aware  that  Martin  was  mur- 
dered sixteen  years  ago,  and  this  cen- 
tury is  ending  sixteen  years  from  now. 
One  might  even  date  Martin's  death,  the 
thirty-two   years    between    that   move- 
ment and  now.  Sixteen  years  ago  and 
sixteen  years  from  now,  we'll  be  facing 
another  world  all  together.  One  of  the 
reasons  for  the  panic  in  this  country, 
in  the  Western  world,  is  that  it  is  impor- 
tant to  consider  the  people  who  set  up 
this    country,   and   according  to   them 
they    settled    it.    Importantly,  bear   in 
mind  the  nature  of  the  coalition  that 
happened  on  these  shores  the  first  time 
the  so  called  Indian  saw  the  European, 
he   referred   to  them  the  people  from 
heaven,  because  of  the  way  they  looked. 
He  helped  them  in  every  way  he  could, 
to  understand  this  place  and  the  means 
of  keeping   alive  the  coalition.   It  was 
enormously  unstated,  the  native  Ameri- 
can, the  only  person  the  European  yet 
encountered   in   the   new   world   has  a 
concept  of  identity  which  has  nothing 
whatever  to  do  what  Europe  thought  of 
as  either  a  nation  or  an  identity. 
The   savage,    to    use    European    terms, 
acted  on  this  belief,  that  he  was  part  of 
a  nation;  he  was  part  of  a  nation,  not  a 
tribe.  He  was  part  of  a  language,  not  a 
dialect  and  he  belonged  to  the  nation 
that  was  reduced  by  the  language  that 
had  responsibilities  to  the  language  and 
to    the   nation   which   was  sacred    and 
quite  beyond  the  life  time  of  a  single 
man.  The  European  assumed  that  the 
nation  belonged  to  them,  and  further- 
more,   Columbus    for    example,    never 
got  anywhere  near  India,  never,  never, 
never,  but  he  had  to  tell  Queen  Isabella 
something  when  he  got  back  to  Spain. 

The  question  is  "How  did  it  come 
about?"  That  people  began  enslaving 
each  other;  they  treated  each  other  like 
dirt  all  over  Europe.  Everybody  was  en- 
slaved to  somebody  else,  not  a  single 


human  being  alive  has  not  been  a  slave 
somewhere. 

But  how  did  that  happen?  That  a 
certain  group  of  people  of  a  certain 
moment  and  time  decided  that  they 
were  civilized  and  nobody  else  was. 
How  did  it  happen  that  one  could  look 
on  to  another  human  being  who  was 
darker  as  though  we  were  a  thing.  How 
did  it  escape  the  general  attention  that 
it  is  impossible  for  a  human  being  to 
be  born  who  is  not  civilized?  Every  man 
and  woman  is  bom  human.  Every  per- 
son is  born  somewhere  and  you  are 
civilized  by  a  village,  by  a  language,  by 
the  place  in  which  you  find  yourself, 
by  the  discipline  that  is  imposed  on  you 
in  order  to  keep  alive  at  all  means  that 
you  are  civilized.  Somebody  takes  you 
out  of  the  womb,  somebody  gets  the 
knife,  somebody  hears  the  first  cry  a 
human  being  makes;  somebody  washes 
the  blood  off,  somebody  covers  you; 
somebody  teaches  you  right  from 
wrong;  it  is  not  possible  to  be  human 
and  not  civilized.  And  yet,  a  European 
delusion  after  they  left  the  caves  was 
that  they  had  the  right  to  civilize  me. 
They  persuaded  themselves  that  I  was 
the  void,  the  vacuum,  the  nothingness 
called  Africa,  with  nothing  to  do  but 
wait  until  they  discovered  me.  Now 
it  may  sound  preposterious,  but  the 
American  myth  is  based  on  .  .  .  what 
can  we  call  it?  It  is  perhaps  pathetic  to 
be  called  what  it  is,  but  it  is  too  desper- 
ate to  be  called  a  delusion.  It  is  a  reality 
the  people  believe,  they  do  not  remem- 
ber that  before  they  came  here  they 
were  not  white. 

I  am  beginning  to  hear  in  my  own 
mind,  sounds.  Sometimes  I  could  crack 
the  record,  but  I'll  say  it  again.  Before 
the  sea  changed  the  people,  the  people 
who  came  from  Portugal  were 
Portugese,  the  people  who  came  from 
Greece  were  Greek,  the  Poles  from 
Poland,  French  from  France,  English 
from  England.  All  over  Europe  they  had 
those  identities.  In  fact  they  have  them 
today.  Until  today  they  do  not  get 
£ilong  with  each  other,  there  is  no 
Common  Market.  Europeans  have  never 
ever  agreed  on  one  or  anything  except 
one  thing.  The  were  not  white  .  .  .they 
weren't  white,  and  nobody  in  this 
country  can  prove  he  or  she  is  white. 
I  dare  you!  I  dare  you!  They  became 
white  in  order  to  justify  the  way  I  enter 
the  civilized  worid,  the  Western  worid 
on  the  auction  block.  Whereas  it  is  true 


that  everybody  has  been  a  slave  to 
somebody,  somewhere,  in  my  case  I 
am  the  first  slave  who  has  destined,  and 
this  was  written  down,  to  be  a  slave 
forever. 

Institutional  chatteled  slavery  was 
a  new  invention.  The  child  had  a  condi- 
tion, the  condition  of  his  mother, 
and  law  decreed  that  a  slave  was  3/5  ths 
of  a  man.  The  people  who  wrote  these 
words:  "We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self- 
evident  that  all  men  are  created  equal 
and  are  endowed  by  their  creator  with 
certain  unalienable  rights.  Among  these 
are  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness .  .  .",  the  trouble  with  this  country 
begins  at  that  moment,  begins  with  he 
who  looked  on  me  and  said  I  was  3/5ths 
of  a  man.  Now  that  would  not  perhaps 
be  so  very  important  if  it  were  the  past, 
but  the  reason  you  called  today, 
tonight,  is  because  it  is  not  .  .  .  not  the 
past  history,  is  never  the  past,  it  is  the 
present.  We  are  responsible  for  this  past, 
and  this  present.  How  can  I  put  it  to 
you? 

WEB  DuBois,  who  was  legally  Black, 
who  was  spiritually  Black,  could  have 
made  other  choices:  he  could  have  done 
other  things,  he  could  have  refused  to 
be  the  witness  that  he  became.  He  as- 
sumed his  inheritance  for  his  sake,  and 
for  the  sake  of  us  all.  He  said  in  1903 
"the  problem  with  the  20th  century  is 
the  problem  of  the  color  line".  He  died 
in  Ghana  at  the  age  of  95.  It  was  DuBois 
who  insisted  that  black  men  should  en- 
list in  the  First  Worid  War.  In  that  war, 
which  was  waged  to  make  the  world 
safe  for  democracy,  he  said,  "If  Black 
men  prove  themselves  to  American  pub- 
lic, the  question,  the  right  to  citizenship 
can  never  be  raised  again".  Many  people 
disagreed  with  him  but  he  meant  it  and 
he  won,  he  won  the  day.  After  all,  part 
of  the  trap  is  that  infact  you  love  your 
country.  To  be  civilized  it  is  impossible 
not  to  love  your  country,  you  may 
disagree  with  it,  you  may  have  to  leave 
it.  You  may  never,  ever  make  your 
peace  with  it.  I,  for  example,  know  that 
my  father's  father's  father  paid  for  this 
country  and  nothing  can  make  it  less 
my  country  even  though  I  may  be 
driven  out  of  it  or  murdered  here  it  is 
still  my  country.  I  have  the  right  to 
claim  it.  I  have  no  possibility  of  deny- 
ing it,  the  day  will  come  that  I  may 
never  be  able  to  see  it  again,  that  hap- 
pens too.  DuBois'  belief  in  Black 
people,  DuBois'  belief  in  America  drove 


66 


him  to  make  those  choices  to  say  those 
things  and  who  can  say  he  was  wrong. 
Well,  how  I  can  say  it,  that  many,  many 
years  later  that  he  was  betrayed.  We  did 
go  and  fight  that  war  to  make  the  world 
safe  for  democracy.  We  did  not  fight 
under  the  American  flag,  by  the  way.  It 
was  a  French  flag.  The  American  army 
was  not  ready  to  deal  with  black  people, 
and  did  not  change  very  much  at  the 
time  of  the  Second  World  War.  We  came 
home  in  1918.  We,  the  black  soldier, 
we,  the  black  brother,  we,  the  black 
witness,  came  home  in  uniform  to  be 
lynched,  to  be  castrated,  to  be  blinded, 
to  be  burned  to  death  at  the  hands  of 
our  countrymen  in  American  uniform. 
Now  obviously  that  is  a  demonstration 
for  the  Black  population  of  this 
country.  It  is  really  a  terrifying  situation 
because  America  is  not  what  I,  Sambo, 
had  been  through,  and  what  I  am 
going  through  today  right  down  the 
road  in  Boston,  it  ain't  but  one  city. 
What  is  terrifying  is  the  energy,  the 
republic  spends  pretending  this  is  not 
happening.  What  is  terrifying  is  what  no 
one  in  this  country  understands  the 
nature  of  the  Sea  Change  which  changed 
them  from  whatever  they  were  before 
they  hit  the  water  to  what  they  have 
become  today.  It  is  so  obvious  that  it 
hasn't  been  mentioned  yet;  so  blatant 
that  it  must  be  looked  at  again.  No  one 
here  and  no  one  in  the  history  of  the 
world,  no  one  wanted  to  be  a  slave;  and 
yet,  the  myth  of  this  country  is  based 
on  the  image  of  the  happy  darkies. 
Stephen  Foster  could  write  a  song 
saying  "  all  the  darkies  are  a  weeping 
cause  master  is  in  a  cold,  cold  ground"; 
Baby  when  master  was  in  the  cold,  cold 
ground,  I  was  not  weeping.  I  never  met, 
and  neither  have  you,  a  happy  darkies, 
contented  slave.  Slaves  do  not  love  their 
masters  by  definition. 

When  1  was  growing  up  in  the  streets 
of  Harlem,  the  streets  in  New  York,  you 
were  a  "nigger".  By  the  time  you  are 
seven  years  old,  in  many,  many  ways 
you  learn  as  I  learned.  I  did  not  listen 
to  what  the  white  cat  was  saying,  I  did 
not  listen  to  the  cops;  I  watched  his 
eyes,  I  wondered,  I  had  to  figure  out 
what  he  wanted  to  hear,  because  I  had 
to  get  to  one  place  to  another  without 
getting  my  head  broken.  I  watched  his 
eyes,  my  life  was  in  his  hands,  where  as 
I  knew  he  never  saw  me  because  he 
imagined  me.  He  had  the  club;  he  had 
the  gun;  he  had  the  skin. 


I  remembered  one  evening  when  I 
was  about  seventeen,  eighteen  years  old, 
I  was  thrown  out  of  a  restaurant  be- 
cause I  was  Black.  As  I  was  standing  on 
the  corner  facing  a  cop  with  a  white 
friend  of  mine,  a  high  school  friend, 
and  I  was  talking  about  the  Constitu- 
tion, my  rights,  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence, so  forth.  They  had  no  right 
to  do  this  to  me,  because  I  am  Black. 
Suddenly  I  looked  at  the  cop's  eyes, 
I  looked  at  my  friends's  eyes,  my  friend 
was  absolutely  paralyzed  with  terror.  I 
looked  at  the  cop's  eyes,  I  looked  at 
his  hands  which  held  the  billy  club  and 
he  was  about  to  beat  my  brains  out 
because  I  was  talking  about  my  rights, 
If  it  hadn't  been  for  my  terror,  I  might 
not  be  standing  here  before  you  now.  I 
am  a  lucky,  lucky  boy,  I  am  still  here. 
I  am  very  lucky  but  what  I  am  trying 
to  say,  though,  is  that  my  knowing  the 
Constitution  and  my  rights  meant  no- 
thing whatever  to  him,  nor  my  age.  How 
much  harm  can  a  seventeen  year  old 
boy  do  by  having  a  cup  of  coffee  in  an 
all  White  restaurant?  What  is  the 
trouble,  why  can't  I  have  a  cup  of  cof- 
fee? Whom  am  I  contaminating?  What  is 
the  danger  I  represent?  I  am  not  carry- 
ing a  razor  or  a  gun,  and  if  I  were,  I 
just  wanted  a  cup  of  coffee,  wanted  to 
sit  down,  or  maybe  wanted  to  go  to 
the  bathroom  like  any  other  human 
being.  No  you  can't  do  it  because  you're 
Black.  DuBois  spent  all  of  his  life  deal- 
ing with  that,  and  perhaps  one  of  the 
reasons  that  I  am  here  tonight  is  because 
of  DuBois. 

DuBois'  "The  Coming  of  John",  is 
one  of  DuBois's  stories  which  until 
today  I  think  is  a  very  important  story 
to  me  and  it  reveals  something  to  me. 
This  kind  of  Southern  artist  told  me 
something  about  where  my  father  came 
from,  and  where  I  came  from,  what  it 
meant  to  be  a  Black  person  in  this 
country.  This  tragic  story  so  incredible 
and  beautifully  written,  and  even  until 
today  it  has  helped  me.  I  cannot  tell 
you  what  the  voice  did  for  me,  but  I 
was  born  in  1924,  and  in  those  days  the 
ideas  of  becoming  a  Black  writer  was 
incredibly  remote,  incredibly  dangerous, 
it  was  one  of  the  things  my  father  and  I 
thought  about.  Through  so  many  years 
we  realized  why  he  reacted  the  way  he 
did  because  he  knew  very  well  that  I 
was  flying  in  the  face  of  a  white  world's 
definition.  Like  Sterling  Brown,  he  had 
seen  things  that  I  could  not  imagine,  he 


had  been  to  place  I  did  not  know  at  all. 
Sterling  Brown  is  my  Godfather,  is  my 
guide. 

Now  it  goes  back  watching  the  eyes 
of  the  White  man.  For  many  genera- 
tions, the  people  would  think  of  them- 
selves as  white  and  imagine  themselves 
able  to  describe  me,  they  think  they 
know  who  and  what  I  am.  They  had 
many,  many  images  of  Black  people, 
images  that  aren't  worth  going  through 
again. 

A  Black  cat,  when  he's  young,  is 
really  essentially  a  walking  phallis, 
a  threat  to  the  public's  peace  to  be 
Black.  The  Black  cat  has  always  been 
cut  down  and/or  cut  off  because  he  is 
a  menace  to  the  neighborhood,  but 
a  positive  blessing  to  the  public  peace 
because  he  has  no  sex  anymore.  My 
mother,  when  she  is  young,  according  to 
the  obstacle  of  this  republic,  is  a  loose 
woman,  a  loose  girl.  When  my  mother 
gets  older  after  the  menapause  becomes 
a  saint.  Now  if  you  think  that  I  am 
exaggerating,  I  dare  anyone  of  you  to 
go  out  into  the  bookstores,  into  the 
cinemas,  onto  the  television  and  find  an 
image  of  Black  people  which  is  not 
based  on  the  "good"  niggers  and  the 
"bad"  niggers  and  nothing  in  between 
and  the  key  is  always  sexual.  Whatever 
this  terrifying  common  place  makes  you 
it  comes  to  this:  the  republic  invented 
the  Black  person.  In  this  terrifying 
seriousness  of  definition,  they  have 
blinded  themselves  to  themselves.  What 
America  does  not  see  is  the  looks  of 
Black  people,  the  looks  of  me.  What  it 
does  not  see  when  it  looks  at  the  Black 
person  who  has  been  here  for  more  than 
four  hundred  years,  is  flesh  of  their 
flesh,  bone  of  their  bone.  We  the  Blacks 
didn't  ask  for  intergration,  for  example, 
we  asked  for  de-segregation  which  is  a 
very  different  matter.  We  know  very 
well  by  looking  at  the  colors  of  our 
skins  that  we've  been  intergrated  a  long 
time  ago.  People  who  could  not  see  this 
or  cannot  see  this  connection,  cannot 
see  anything  else  either,  but  they  do  not 
see,  when  they  walk  the  streets  in  Bos- 
ton, Detroit  or  New  York.  They  look 
into  my  father's  face,  my  mother's 
face,  my  sister's  face,  my  nephew's 
face,  my  neice's  face,  my  face,  but  they 
do  not  see  the  world.  Why?  They  do  not 
know  about  El  Salvador  or  Lebanon  or 
any  other  place  in  the  world.  They  blind 
themselves  to  our  human  presence. 
What  is  so  terrifying  is  that  now  they 


67 


PAUL  GOODNIGHT 


68 


cannot  see  at  all,  this  makes  the  country 
one  of  the  most  dangers  in  the  world. 

It  is  clinging  to  a  myth,  which  they 
claim  as  history,  and  to  an  illusion, 
which  they  claim  as  their  responsibility, 
which  is  a  very  dangerous  matter.  This 
is  what,  among  other  things,  that  hap- 
pened to  my  friend  Martin.  I  met  Martin 
in  1957,  it  might  be  worth  a  moment 
backtracking. 

In  1957  I  was  in  Paris,  in  1956  I 
dreaded  to  leave  for  many,  many, 
many  reasons,  but  I  finally  got  home  in 
1957.  Now  the  early  fifties  was  a  very 
peculiar  time;  people  have  overlooked 
it. 

I  was  living  in  Paris  when  five  re- 
publics fell  in  a  very  short  space  and 
time.  There  was  the  beginning  of  what 
we  called  the  civil  rights  movement.  I 
decided  to  leave  to  come  back  here.  I 
was  looking  at  the  portrait  of  Dorothy 
Counts  in  Charlotte,  North  Carolina, 
trying  to  go  to  school  and  I  thought  I 
do  not  want  to  sit  in  Paris  any  longer 
being  civilized  about  the  Nigeria  pro- 
blem about  the  Black  problem  and, 
furthermore,  I  made  a  very  important 
discovery:  they  only  thing  in  which 
Whites  are  in  total  agreement;  they  only 
thing  that  they  don  not  disagree  about 
is  me!  They  all  agree  that  I,  at  whatever 
price,  must  be  kept  in  my  place.  The 
French  believed  it,  the  English  believed 
it,  the  Dutch  believed  it.  Furthermore, 
the  years  when  I  first  went  to  France, 
The  Black  presence,  one  didn't  feel  it 
in  France,  Paris  or  London.  There  were 
virtually  no  Black  people  there.  Their 
slaves  were  in  colonies  far  away,  no 
Frenchman,  np  Englishman  at  that 
point  or  Dutchman  still  less  German  had 
to  ask  anybody.  "Would  you  like  your 
sister  to  marry  one?"  There  were  none. 
That  began  to  change  in  1955.  I  was  in 
London;  I  watched  it  when  the  English 
did  not  wish  to  sweep  the  streets,  drive 
buses,  do  all  the  dirty  work  which  "nig- 
gers" were  bom  to  do.  They  brought 
some  of  their  slaves  to  the  main  land,  I 
was  there  that  day  of  course,  when  they 
got  to  the  mainland  where  they  stayed 
because  they  couldn't  go  back.  The 
British  Prime  Minister  decided  they 
were  useless,  then  a  gereration  was  bom 
in  London  which  was  never  seen.  Then 
they  had  the  foreign  worker  problem, 
meaning  how  to  get  the  "niggers"  back 
to  where  they  were,  which  can  never 


be  done.  This  is  what's  happening  all 
over  Europe,  all  over  the  Western  world. 
It  seems  simple,  after  all  I  came  home  to 
see  what  was  happening  rather  than  to 
sit  in  Paris  and  be  civilized  about  the 
Negro's  problem. 

So  I  went,  came  home  and  eventually 
I  found  a  way  to  get  to  atlanta.  This  is 
where  I  met  Martin.  He  was  working  on 
a  book  in  a  motel,  hiding  I  think. 

Martin  was  about  my  height,  give  or 
take  an  inch,  much  heavier,  much  more 
basketballish  or  footballish  or  whatever. 
He  was  much  more  athletic.  How  old 
was  I  then?  In  1957, 1  was  about  thirty- 
four,  I  guess  Martin  was  younger  about 
thirty.  I  can't  say  that  we  were  friends 
at  once,  but  he  was  very  nice  to  me,  I 
talk  to  him  and  he  talked  to  me. 

Martin  sent  me  onto  Montogomery, 
Alabama,  whre  I  met  Ralph  David  Ab- 
ernathy  and  where  my  peculiar 
journey  really  began.  I  had  never  been 
South  before.  I  prepared  to  go  South,  I 
would  never  have  gone  to  the  South 
from  New  York.  I  don't  want  to  be 
romantic  about  Martin,  we  had  our  dis- 
agreements, more  than  one.  And  I  will 
not  pretend.  We  were  not  intimate 
friends,  but  I  will  tell  you  this  .  .  .  that 
we  trusted  each  other,  I  think  we  learn- 
ed something  from  each  other.  I  loved 
him  very  much  and  my  children.  I  have 
the  habit  of  the  older  brother  and 
Martin  was  the  younger  brother.  In 
spite  of  our  disagreements,  there  was 
something  heroic  in  the  man,  something 
committed,  and  his  vision  was  clear,  and 
he  was  not  a  dreamer.  I  wear  a  watch 
wrapped  around  my  wrist  and  it  says, 
"I  have  a  dream",  now  the  dream  that 
Martin  had  is  a  dream  portrayed  by  the 
country.  I  think  until  one  is  willing  to 
face  that  fact  one  is  going  to  be  in 
trouble,  the  men  who  wrote  the  words 
"we  hold  these  truths  to  be  self  evident 
that  all  men  are  created  equal.  Among 
these  rights,  are  life,  liberty  and  the  pur- 
suit of  happiness"  did  not  mean  that.  It 
applies  only  to  White  people,  it  applies 
only,  in  fact,  to  property  holders,  it 
does  not  apply  to  anybody  else  includ- 
ing, perhaps  and  above  all  the  poor 
Whites  who  had  no  problem  until  today. 
Until  one  can  face  that,  until  one  can 
go  back  to  where  it  started  and  look  at 
it  again  and  try  to  recitify  what  has  led 
up  to  this  place.  We  and  the  world  are 
going  to  be  in  trouble.  Martin  knew  this 
or  discovered  it.  Martin  was  young  and 


Malcolm  was  younger,  those  kids  march- 
ing up  and  down  those  roads,  kids  in 
those  chain  gangs,  those  kids  White  or 
Black  were  betrayed  by  their  country. 
White  and  Black,  what  was  I  doing 
there?  We  were  acting  on  the  promise 
that  this  was  a  free  country.  We  believed 
and  still  believe  that  we  can  make  it  a 
new,  the  people  in  authority,  the  people 
who  claim  to  run  this  country,  the 
people  who  claim  to  know  who  we  jure, 
and  where  we  should  be  going,  and  what 
we  should  do.  Like  the  people  who 
wrote  those  words  do  not  believe  in 
that,  they  believe  in  something  else, 
and  what  is  it  they  believe  in.  They  are 
demanding,  for  example,  they  claim 
they  are  White,  that's  a  very  old  record. 
One  way  or  another  the  question 
will  be  confronted,  is  not  possible  to 
conceive  of  this  country.  As  being  able 
to  ask  these  questions,  the  importance 
of  the  Jackson  campaign,  for  example, 
is  not  that  he  will  win  but  that  he  may 
make  possible  a  real  awakening  in  this 
country  of  a  social  political  process;  it 
may  bring  out  all  those  votes  which 
have  not  been  voted  for  so  long.  We 
created  another  presence  on  the  Ameri- 
can social  political  scene.  We  may  be 
able  to  change  the  future,  I  don't  think 
we  have  a  choice  about  that.  Finally,  it 
is  important  to  remember  what  DuBois 
had  in  mind,  and  Martin  had  in  mind. 
It  was  a  movement  and  a  union  which 
had  nothing  to  do  with  color,  noting 
whatever  to  do  with  colro.  National 
Association  Advancement  for  Colored 
People  was  a  title  designed  and  it 
worked  to  bring  together  all  kinds  of 
people,  all  kinds  of  Americans  who  had 
some  real  concerns  about  this  country 
and  some  real  perception  in  what  was 
happening  and  what  it  could  be,  what  it 
can  become  and  what  we  call  the  civil 
right  movemetn  wasn't  only  the  last 
slave  insurrection,  it  was  also  a  very  im- 
portant popular  movement,  a  popular 
movement  which  had  no  color  line. 
The  government  may  not  know  this,  we 
have  to  know  that.  We  are  here  tonight 
after  all  to  do  one  thing  which  is  to 
continue  and  to  make  real,  to  magnify, 
to  plant  in  this  soil  something  which  we 
haven't  heard  from  our  ancesotrs,  from 
our  history  and  we're  speaking  here 
tonight  only  becuase  we  are  connected 
by  W.E.B.  DuBois  and  Martin  Luther 
Kind  and  babv  now  it's  our  turn. 

Thank  you  very  much 


69 


Quincy  Troupe  is  a  poet,  educator 
and  editor.  Born  in  St.  Louis  in  1943, 
he  attended  Grambling  College  in 
Louisiana,  the  University  of  California 
at  Los  Angeles,  the  University  of 
Southern  California  and  Ohio  Univer- 
sity. He  was  an  original  member  of  the 
Watts  Writers'  Workshop  and  is  an 
authority  on  Third  World  literature.  Mr. 
Throupe  has  edited  several  literary 
magazines  including:  Confrontation:  A 
Journal  of  Third  World  Literature,  and 
Watts  Poets:  A  Book  of  New  Poetry 
and  Essays,    He  is  currently  editor  of 


American  Rag  magazine.  In  addition  to 
being  published  in  numerous  antholo- 
gies, he  is  the  author  of  tvifo  books  of 
poetry:  Embryo  (1972)  and  Snake-back 
Solos  which  was  awarded  the  National 
Book  Award  for  Poetry  in  1978.  Quincy 
Troupe  is  a  musical  poet;  one  who  has 
skillfully  and  movingly  blended  the 
pulse  of  a  people,  the  oral  tradition, 
their  foot-stomping,  hand-clapping  as 
well  as  "cool"  with  the  written  word.  A 
resident  of  New  York  City,  he  is  Asso- 
ciate Professor  of  Literature  at  the  Col- 
lege of  Staten  Island. 


QUINCY 
TROUPE 

by  Janice  Lowe 


DRUM   -   Are  you   a  musician?  Music 

is  integral  to  your  poems. 
Q.T.  -  I  used  to  play  bass.  My  brother 
was   a  drummer.  I  grew  up  in 
a  musical  situation. 
DRUM  -  Why  did  you  leave  St.  Louis? 
Q.T.  -  I  was  an  all-state  basketball  play- 
er. I  went  to  Grambling  College 
in    Louisiana   on   scholarship.   I 
studied  political  science,  econo- 
mics,  and    history.    After    four 
years  there,  I  went  into  the  army 
and  played  basketball.  I  travel- 
ed all   over   Europe  and  North 
Africa,    playing    their    national 
teams.    When    I   went   back   to 
St.    Louis  after  getting  out   of 
the  service  in  '63,  I  decided  not 
to  stay  in  St.  Louis  because  at 
that  point,  I  had  been  hving  in 
Paris  in  a  different  atmosphere 
and   had   met  Sartre  and  some 
other  writers  and  artists  of  great 
talent.  I  decided  that  St.  Louis 
couldn't  contain  what  I  wanted, 
so  I  went  to  Los  Angeles  in  '65 
and   became   part  of  the  Watts 
Writers'  Workshop. 
DRUM  -  Could  you  tell  me  about  the 
workshop,  who   was  part  of  it 
and  what  you  accomplished? 
Q.T.    -    Jane    Crotez,   Stanley   Crouch, 
Louis  Merriweather,  Kay  Curtis 
Lyle,  Ojinke,  Johnie  Scott .  . . 
The    workshop    was    a    great 
experience  because  I  had  never 
been  around  writers  before. 
DRUM    -    How    did   you   get   involved 

with  the  workshop? 
Q.T.  -  I  had  gone  to  L.A.,  having  major- 
ed in  political  science.  My 
mother  wanted  me  to  be  a  law- 
yer but  I  didn't  want  to  be  one. 
So,  I  went  back  to  school  anJ 
took  business  and  journalism 
courses  at  Los  Angeles  City  Col- 
lege. When  I  was  there,  Ojinke, 
Eldridge  Cleaver,  Bunchy  Carter, 
Leon  Thomas,  all  these  people. 


had  a  big  cultural  evening  which 
I  was  covering  for  a  newspaper. 
Ojinke  said,  "Why  don't  you 
come  down  to  Watts?"  So  he 
took  me.  That's  how  I  got  to 
the  workshop. 

DRUM  -  When  did  you  start  writing? 

Q.T.  -  I  started  writing  in  Paris.  As  I 
said,  I  was  a  basketball  player. 
These  people  I  knew,  knew 
Sartre.  He  suggested  I  keep  a 
dairy  and  write  about  the 
French  people. 

DRUM  -  How  did  you  meet  Sartre? 

Q.T.  -  The  family  of  a  French  girl  I 
was  dating  was  friendly  with 
Sartre.  I  went  to  this  party; 
Sartre  was  there.  I  didn't 
know  who  he  was  because  at 
that  point,  really,  I  was  just  a 
basketball  player.  I  thought 
like  a  basketball  player. 

DRUM  -  What  do  you  mean?  Was  there, 
at  some  point,  a  sudden  change 
in  the  way  you  percieved  things? 

Q.T.  - 1  don't  mean  that  basketball  play- 
ers aren't  intelligent.  All  I 
thought  about  was  20  foot  jump 
shots,  scoring  my  25-30  points 
a  game,  getting  20  assists,  play- 


ing the  tough  "D",  and  looking 
for  the  women  afterwards.  I 
hadn't  read  Sartre.  I-  wasn't 
ready  for  his  intellectual  probing 
of  me.  He  was  interested  in  me, 
not  £is  a  basketball  palyer,  but  as 
a  Black  person  from  America. 
He  was  a  Marxist-Leninist.  I  was 
getting  tired  of  this  little  frog- 
like man  asking  me  all  these 
questions.  I  was  arrogant.  I 
didn't  care  who  he  was;  I  knew 
who  I  was.  I  was  a  good  basket- 
ball player.  My  ego  was  so  big 
at  that  time,  I  didn't  let  anyone 
else  in.  I  thought  like  a  basket- 
ball player;  but  Sartre  changed 
my  life.  Her  persisted  in  asking 
me  questions  about  the  environ- 
ment I  had  grown  up  in,  telling 
me  what  I  should  be  doing 
instead  of  being  an  athlete.  I 
used  to  get  mad  with  him  but 
I  listened  because  I  was  always 
curious. 

My  background  was  very  un- 
usual. My  father  is  the  sceond 
greatest  catcher  of  cdl  time  in 
the  Black  baseball  leagues.  I 
lived  in  Cuba,  Puerto  Rico, 
Venzuela,   and   Mexico   for  the 


70 


first  six  years  of  my  life.  I  was 
meeting  great  people  like  Satchel 
Paige  and  Monty  Irving.  I  always 
had  a  sense  of  myself  as  being 
someone  important.   My  father 
became  a  scout  for  the  St.  Louis 
Cardinals.  My  uncle  was  a  top 
politician  in  Missouri.  I  always 
had  a  sense  of  myself  as  being 
somebody  in  this  thing.  It  added 
to  the  whole  thing  about  being  a 
basketball    player;   seeing   your 
name  in  the  paper  all  the  time, 
you  pop's  name  in  the  paper  all 
along.    I    could    be   overbearing 
and  obnoxious,  but  those  traits 
helped  me  get  through  a  lot  of 
stuff.   When  I  went  to  the  all- 
white  high  school  in  St.  Louis, 
when  I  was  smarter  than  them. 
I  thought  like  a  basketball  player 
but  behind  that,  there  was  some- 
thing   else    that    I    didn't    even 
know  was  there.  All  this  exper- 
iential stuff  came  out  later  when 
I  started  to  write.  I  started  to  see 
things  differently.  Then  when  I 
hurt  my  knee  and  couldn't  play 
basketball  anymore,  this  French 
girl  siad  to  me,  "Why  don't  you 
write    more?"   I  could   see   my 
whole  life  changing  right  in  front 
of  my  face.  I  was  very  clean  and 
conservative    and    into    clothes 
and    hair.    All    of   a   sudden,   I 
could  see  myself  dropping  those 
kinds  of  things.  My  hair  wasn't 
important,  whether  I  combed  it 
or  not.  The  only  thing  that  was 
important  was  that  I  was  clean 
in  body  and  in  spirit.  I  started 
to  read  more  and  to  write.  By 
the  time  I  got  to  California,  I 
was  ready  for  what  was  there. 
It  was  the  60's  and  everything 
was  happening. 
DRUM  -   If  you  could  describe  your- 
self   as    a    musical    instrument, 
which  one  would  you  pick  and 
why? 
Q.T.  -  I  think  a  lot  like  a  saxophonist 
or    a    guitarist    or    an    electric 
bassist  like  Stanley  Clark.  I  like 
the    way  Jimi   Hendricks   plays 
and,    Coltrane    and    Parker   on 
saxophone.  They  express  sound 
in  complex  layers  which  is  what 
I  try  to  do  when  I  write.  They 
hear  sounds  in  clusters;  words 
come  in  clusters  for  me  when 
I'm  writing. 


DRUM  -  Do  you  consider  yourself  a 
Black  poet  or  a  universal  one 
or  both? 

Q.T.  -  I  consider  myself  a  poet  who  is 
a  Black  person.  Anyone  who 
talks  to  me  knows  what  my 
concerns  are;  I  don't  have  to 
go  around  talking  about  how 
I'm  a  Black  poet  or  a  Black 
person.  I  think  our  culture 
helps  musicians,  artists,  poets 
express  themselves  in  ways  that 
are  very  different  from  the 
ways  white  musicians  and  artists 
express  themselves.  In  my  poe- 
try, I  have  tried  to  blend  sound 
and  form,  the  oral  tradition 
with  the  page.  Although  I'm 
very  familiar  with  poetic  forms, 
I've  decided  not  to  use  those 
forms.  I'm  developing  a  form. 
I  didn't  want  to  write  a  sonnet 
or  a  sestina  or  a  villanel. 

DRUM  -  When  you  are  doing  a  reading, 
do  you  find  that  your  most 
effective  poetry  is  that  which 
is  strongly  influenced  by  the 
African  oral  tradition? 

Q.T.  -  I  do  a  lot  of  readings,  maybe  50 
a  year,  usually  in  New  York, 
the  Midwest,  the  South.  I  find 
it  is  according  to  the  audience. 
For  instance,  I  went  down  to 
the  Lincoln  Correctional  Facil- 
ity. People  who  go  there  have 
hardcore  criminal  backgrounds, 
have  made  adjustments  and  are 
on  their  way  out.  I  went  there  to 
read  with  some  other  artists. 
The  prisoners  were  just  sitting 
arond  eating.  They  don't  care 
about  poetry.  They  don't  know 
any  forms.  They  didn't  care  that 
I  was  a  college  professor  and 
well-known  -miter.  They  were 
sitting  there  and  looking  at  me 
like,  "What's  he  gonna  do?" 
So  I  had  to  get  them.  I  couldn't 
just  lay  back  and  give  them  this 
comples,  intellectual,  multi-lay- 
ered, puzzling,  obscure  poem.  I 
had  to  read  something  that  was 
direct,  that  comes  from  within 
their  experience,  that  can  co- 
nect  with  them,  that  shows  that 
I  am  also  just  like  them.  I  read 
one,  a  blues  poem,  called  "River 
Town  Packing  House  Blues" 
which  is  going  to  be  in  my  new 
book.  It's  about  this  real  person 


who  was  a  packing  house  man. 
He  killed  cows  and  pigs  by  slitt- 
ing their  throats  -  the  symbol 
there  is  murder.  It's  about  this 
man  who's  very  cold,  who  beats 
peoples'   asses  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, who's  running  loose  when 
he  gets  drunk.  I  was  trying  to 
make   a  comment  to  them  be- 
cause many  of  them  were  like 
that.  But  it's  also  rhythmic  and 
in   a  blues/work  song  mode  so 
they  can  get  to  the  rhythm.  The 
language  is  very  strong.  Then  the 
next  one   I  read  was   a   funny 
poem  and  by  that  time  they  had 
forgotten    their   chicken.    They 
were  saying,  "Who  is  this  guy?" 
I  change  up  according  to  what 
audience  I  read  to.  For  a  white 
audience,   like    next    week    I'm 
going  to  read  out  on  Long  Island 
where  there  will- be  intellectuals 
and  so  forth,  I'll  read  some  very 
obscure,  comples,  multi-layered 
stuff. 
DRUM   -  You'll   read  a  few  rhythmic 

one's,  won't  you? 
Q.T.  -  I  might  but  I  don't  want  to  give 
them  too  much.  Plus,  they  can't 
take  the  nearby  level.  Black 
peoples'  energy  level,  for  the 
most  part,  destabilizes  white 
people  because  they  just  don't 
understand  it;  it's  everywhere. 
Instead  of  concentrating  on  it,  it 
goes  past  them. 
DRUM  -  How  long  did  it  take  you  to 

find  your  voice? 
Q.T.  -  My  biggest  influences  as  a  poet 
were:  Jean  Toomer,  Langston 
Huges,  Melvin  Tolson,  Walt 
Whitman,  Eliot,  Pable  Neruda 
and  Caesar  Villejo  -  Latin 
American  poets,  and  Rabearivelo 
of  Madagascar,  who  blew  my 
mind.  I  love  Baraka.  I  struggled, 
imitating  those  people  and  then 
I  wrote  a  poem  called  "Ode  to 
John  Coltrane".  Coltrane  died  in 
'67;  that  poem  influenced  me 
and  a  lot  of  people  in  California. 
I  began  to  look  at  it  for  what 
was  in  it  that  was  me  and  I  be- 
gan to  discover  certain  ways  of 
looking  at  things,  certain  ways 
of  using  metaphor,  language, 
rhythm  -  that  was  based  in  St. 
Louis.  I  could  see  it,  the  blues 
feeling.  I  decided  I  was  going  to 
take  that  and  turn  it  into  some- 


71 


thing  else;  take  the  good  things 
out  of  it,  the  blues,  the  oral 
quality  and  fine  tune  it.  Then  I 
wrote  a  peom  in  '69  called 
"Poem  for  Friends",  a  long 
poem  about  turmoil,  students, 
people  getting  killed,  the  loss  of 
cohesiveness  among  Black  peo- 
ple in  their  struggle  to  be  free.  I 
used  some  of  the  stuff  from  the 
"Coltrane"  poem  and  fine  tune 
it  some  more.  I  could  see  my 
own  voice  growing.  The  poem 
"Embryo",  an  extension  of 
"Poem  for  Friends"  uses  this 
same  voice  to  express  my 
perception  of  the  African 
American  experience.  And  then 
I  went  to  Africa  in  1972.  I 
taught  at  the  University  of 
Ghana  and  the  University  of 
Nigeria  at  Lagos,  I  stayed  over 
there  for  18  months.  It  was  a 
profound  experience  for  me  be- 
cause I  had  jsut  finished  my  first 
book  which  came  out  in  '72. 
What  I  discovered  through  the 
Africans  at  that  time  was  that 
they  didn't  understand  Black 
American  poets  because  the 
Black  American  poets  were 
writing  in  a  language  that  was 
hip  to  us  but  not  hip  to  them. 
They  didn't  know  what  we  were 
saying  because  there  were  no 
metaphors  in  it  that  could  trans- 
late into  their  experience.  They 
could  not  see  themselves  in  the 
images  that  we  were  talking 
about.  I  began  to  realize  that 
our  images  were  local.  They 
don't  apply  anywhere  else.  It 
was  a. startling  revelation  to  me. 
They  were  telling  me  that  the 
people  really  liked  my  poetry 
because  they  could  get  inside 
the  images. 

DRUM  -  Whom  do  you  write  for? 

Q.T.  -  I  write  for  myself  first.  I'm  sure 
of  my  own  self.  I'm  sure  of  my- 
self as  a  Black  person  in  the  sen- 
se that  I'm  not  going  to  do  any- 
thing that  is  detrimental  to 
Black  people.  When  I  write  for 
myself,  I  think  of  myself  as  be- 
ing intelligent  and  sensitive 
therefore  I  write  for  somebody 
else  too.  I  don't  think  about 
writing  for  "Black  people" 
but  I  hope  that  what  I  write 
about     will     be    important    to 


Blacks  and  other  people. 

DRUM  -  Do  your  best  poems  "happen" 
to  you  or  are  they  planned 
methodically? 

Q.T.  -  I  don't  plan  poems,  I  trust  my 
own  muse.  There  are  some 
poems  that  I  plan,  but  not  the 
majority.  I  decided  to  sit  down 
and  write  some  poems  for  my 
son;  I've  written  about  ten. 
When  I  moved  to  Harlem,  I 
started  doing  a  series  on  Harlem. 
I've  started  a  new  form  which  I 
call  craps,  which  is  a  strict  form 
with  a  certain  syllabic  count, 
line  count  and  number  of  qua- 
trains, which  I  want  to  use  in  a 
book  that  will  come  out  soon. 

DRUM  -  What  do  you  teach? 

Q.T.  -  I  teach  literature,  Latin  Ameri- 
can, American,  African  Ameri- 
can, African,  Caribbean.  I  teach 
a  course  called  the  "Black  Ex- 
perience', which  is  a  combina- 
tion of  sociology,  economics, 
political  science,  music  and  lit- 
erature. It  tells  about  the  Black 
American  experience  from 
Africa  to  the  present  day  and 
how  we  have  evolved  as  a  peo- 
ple. I  teach  at  the  College  of 
Staten  Island;  I  am  an  associate 
professor  there.  I'm  director  of 
the  writing  program  and  a  poe- 
try center.  I  also  edit  a  magizine. 
That's  enough  intellectual  pur- 
suit for  me.  When  I've  finished 
dealing  with  students  for  the 
day,  that's  it.  I  don't  want  to 
talk  to  my  friends  about  intellec- 
tual matters,  how  I  write  my 
poems.  My  wife  is  an  executive  . 
for  the  New  York  Times.  I'm  a 
confident  person,  my  wife  is.  So 
when  somebody  does  something 
to  me,  I'm  gonna  hit  them  up- 
side the  head  right  away.  These 
people  around  here  learned 
that.  Stories  were  written  about 
my  wife  and  myself  in  the  paper, 
with  pictures,  about  us  being 
this  bourgeouis,  intellectual  cou- 
ple. They  (the  people  in  the 
neighborhood)  threatened  us. 
We  had  to  stick  knives  to  their 
throats.  They  leave  us  alone 
now.  To  live  sometimes  in  a 
community  like  this,  you  have 
to  take  on  certain  characteristics 
of  the  community,  the  masks, 
the  ways  of  some  of  the  desper- 


ate elements  of  the  community 
in  order  to  survive  and  make  it 
better.  The  whole  pursuit  of 
intellectualism  is  interesting  to 
me  only  when  it  can  be  appUed. 
We're  living  in  a  society  where 
we  have  so  many  great  Black 
people,  genius  Black  people, 
who  are  deriied  entre  by  the 
fools  who  make  up  things  to 
keep  you  out,  which  makes  you 
feel  like  committing  murder.  So, 
you  walk  around  with  this  mad- 
ness-always  on  edge.  Usually,  the 
madness  comes  out  on  Black 
people  because  that's  who  we 
live  around.  The  explosion,  the 
instantaneous  murder  on  the 
comer  when  somebody  steps  on 
your  foot  ~  you  pull  out  a  gun 
and  shoot  because  you  got  a 
gun  and  you're  mad  and  have 
been  mad  for  30  years  and 
you  can't  kill  a  white  boy 
because  you  know  you  would 
go  to  jail  for  it,  go  to  the  chair. 
If  you  kill  this  brother  cause 
he's  there,  you  ain't  gonna 
get  much  time.  So  the  point 
is,  writing  is  medicinal. 

DRUM  -  Have  you  ever  had  any  heroes? 

Q.T.  -  Miles  Davis,  Pablo  Neruda, 
Chinua  Achebe,  a  great  African 
novelist  ...  I  admire  Joe  Rud- 
olph who  was  a  gangster  in  St. 
Louis.  He  turned  himself  into  a 
great  urban  planner,  but  when 
I  was  growing  up  in  St.  Louis, 
one  of  the  most  terrifying  nig- 
gers ever  put  on  this  earth.  He 
would  shoot  you  cold.  Joe 
Rudolph  now  owns  his  own 
radio  station  in  San  Francisco. 
He  went  to  Berkely.  He  went 
through  being  a  junkie  and  a 
murderer  to  going  back  and  re- 
habilitating himself.  He  is  owner 
and  chairman  of  the  board  of 
one  of  the  biggest  Black  radio 
stations  in  San  Francisco.  I 
admire  Sterling  Brown;  when  he 
comes  to  New  York,  he  stays 
here.  I  really  admire  and  love 
him.  I've  spent  many  great 
hours  just  sitting  and  listening 
to  him. 

DRUM  -  What  is  he  like? 

Q.T.  -  Sterling  is  a  marvelous  raconeur. 
He's  direct,  blunt.  If  he  thinks 
it,  he  says  it.  He  can  also  be  very 
subtle.   He's  a  genius  who  is  a 


72 


very  difficult  man  at  times  be- 
cause he's  older,  he's  seen  all 
that  stuff.  He  can  be  very 
cynical  but  he's  a  marvelous 
person.  He's  an  inspiration  to  all 
of  us.  He's  a  great  reader,  a 
great  storehouse  of  knowledge. 
He  knew  everybody.  So,  I  sit 
down  and  listen.  Every  time  he 
comes  by,  I  tape  him.  I  have 
about  15  hours  of  tape  --  great 
man.  I  like  Coltrane,  Jimi  Hen- 
dricks, who  I  knew  briefly.  I 
like  Paul  Robeson.  Langston 
Hughes  -  I  admire  him  tremen- 
dously. He  wrote  and  did  all 
these  things  but  he  stayed  in 
Harlem  and  did  other  things. 
He  didn't  present  himself  as  a 
strictly  intellectual  person.  I  des- 
pise that  kind  of  thing.  It  has 
no  place,  especially  in  the  Black 
community,  this  kind  of  preten- 
tiousness, this  role  playing  that 
Black  intellectuals  can  some- 
times get  into.  I  remember  going 
to  a  place  to  read  in  Nebraska. 
The  man  who  called  me  was  a 
Black  guy.  He  kept  writing  me 
and  addressing  me  as  Dr. 
Troupe.  I'm  not  a  doctor  be- 
cause I  don't  have  a  Ph.D.  Call 
me  Mr.  Quincy  Troupe  or 
Quincy  Troupe  or  Quincy  or 
Troupe  or  Professor  Troupe. 
He  wanted  to  make  me  a  doctor. 
So  when  I  came  out  of  the  air- 
port, I  had  on  a  leather  jacket, 
shoulder  bag,  boots,  floppy  hat, 
and  a  scarf.  He  was  waiting  for 
some  academic.  I  came  walking 
down  there,  I  was  the  only  Black 
on  the  plane.  He  walks  past  me. 
I  know  it's  him  so  I'm  gonna 
play  a  little  game  'cause  he's 
being  such  an  idiot.  So  I  walked 
near  him  and  waited  for  him  to 
turn  around.  He  says,  "Dr. 
Troupe".  I  said,  "First  of  all, 
I  don't  have  a  doctorate,  second 
of  all  what  is  this,  I'm  the  only 
Black  person  on  this  airplace 
man.  So  he  said,  "I'm  sorry,  I'm 
sorry".  He  couldn't  take  it; 
he  just  couldn't  take  the  energy. 
I  had  this  long  conversation  one 
night  with  him.  I  said,  "What 
counts  is  what  I  say  or  do  when 
I'm  in  front  of  your  students  giv- 
ing information  to  them;  that's 
when      intellectualism     counts. 


that's  the  only  time  it  counts. 
You  are  into  posing  and  wearing 
masks,  these  academic  masks, 
(the  pads  on  the  elbows,  the 
pipe,  the  beard,  his  hair,  the 
whole  thing,  the  tweeds,  the  lit- 
tle shoes.)  You  don't  do  nothin' 
man,  you  don't  contribute  no- 
thin'.  Contribute  something, 
that  is  academic,  that  is  what  an 
intellectual  does,  contribute." 
You  can  look  like  anything.  I 
like  Julius  Irving;  Magic  Johnson 
because  of  the  way  he  plays,  the 
unselfishness,  the  way  he  contri- 
butes to  his  team.  He  has  a 
champion's  attitude.  I  like 
Ellison;  Ishmael  Reed,  who  is  a 
unique,  complex,  innovative, 
individual.  I  like  his  approach  in 
terms  of  being  involved,  in 
influencing  things.  I  like  Toni 
Morrison  -  her  novel  Sula, 
Charles  Johnson,  Toni  Cade 
Bambara  -  she's  a  strong  wo- 
man, a  visionary,  exemplary  per- 
son. Maya  Angelou  is  a  strong 
person. 

DRUM  -  It  is  often  said  that  Black 
people  have  historically  looked 
for  that  one  person  to  lead  them 
somewhere.  Do  you  think  this  is 
still  true? 

Q.T.  -  One  of  the  things  I  teach  in  my 
Black  Experience  course  is  that 
we've  come  from  a  situation, 
African  and  otherwise,  which  for 
the  most  part  has  been  mono- 
lithic in  a  sense  that  we  have  a 
chief  or  a  king  or  a  minister  or 
a  leader.  We  have  always  been 
into  this  one  Elijah  Mohammed, 
Malcom,  Martin  Luther  King, 
DuBois,  Marcus  Garvey,  Booker 
T.  Washington.  We've  never  had 
collective  leadership.  I  hope 
we're  trying  to  do  it  now.  I 
beheve   in  collective  leadership. 

DRUM  -  We  were  talking  earlier  about 
the  exploitation  of  Black  cul- 
ture, that  we  brought  what  is 
meaningful  in  this  country  with 
us  on  the  slave  ships.  Let's 
talk  about  Films  specifically. 
Whenever  we  are  in  a  position 
to  do  something,  we  don't  do 
it.  For  example,  Leon  Kenedy 
had  a  chance  to  make  some 
movies  but  he  made  three  of  the 
worst  movies  imaginable;  they 
contained    every    stereotype    in 


the  book.  We  except  such  mov- 
ies because  we're  happy  to  see 
Balck  faces  on  the  big  screen.  If 
we  could  just  get  together  and 
finance   something   then  surely 
we   would    be    able   to   have   a 
little    bit    of    control.    But,    if 
you've   got  one   person  who  is 
in   a   position  to  do  something 
and    he    doesn't    do    anything, 
what  are  you  going  to  do? 
Q.T.   -  We  don't  have  communications 
media    in    order  to  make   any- 
body. We  don't  make  anybody; 
we   can  but   we   don't..  Certian 
Black    publications    don't    ever 
make  anybody;  they  only  accept 
who  has  been   made  and  push 
them.  But  if  you  look  at  Music- 
ian magazine,  Time,  Life,  they're 
always  making  white  people,  al- 
ways  creating  stars  so  that  by 
the  time  he  or  -she  does  some- 
thing big,  you're  ready  for  them. 
We're  into  this  whole  thing  of 
accepting  who  has  already  been 
made.  For  example,  I  grew  up 
down    the    street    from    Chuck 
Berry.  I  didn't  think  nothin'  of 
Chuck  Berry.  White  people  were 
talking  about  Chuck  Berry;  the 
same  Chuck  Berry  who  use  to  go 
and  sit  on  his  steps  down  the 
street  from  him.  The  white  peo- 
ple ask,  "You  did?"  "What  was 
he  like?"   He   was  jsut   a  little 
Black  boy  running  around  in  the 
streets.  We  used  to  think  he  was 
crazy  but  he  is  a  genius.  I  never 
dreamed  of  how  important  he 
was.  I'm  sure  that  people  who 
live    around   Baraka,   Ralph   El- 
lison  -   they  don't   know  how 
important     these     people     are. 
They  don't  understand  how  im- 
portant  Sterling  Brown   is.  We 
are  '  into    these    one,    singular 
images,     the     chief    syndrome. 
Now    we're    trying    to    change 
that.    I    know    people    in    my 
generation  are  trying  to  change 
that. 

DRUM  -  "For  Colored  Girls"  was  em- 
brased  by  the  white  community 
in  part  because  of  the  recurrent 
"dogging"  of  Black  men.  Could 
you  comment  on  that? 

Q.T.  -  That's  what  the  white  people 
liked  about  that  play.  They  liked 
the  point  that  the  man  was  not 
a    man,    was    less,    threw    the 


73 


babies  out  the  window.  Tliey 
said,  "See,  I  told  you  he  was 
nothing  no  way;  he's  just  stu- 
pid. And  we  ain't  the  ones 
saying  this,  it's  a  Black  woman 
saying  this."  It's  perfect  for 
them,  perfect  for  whites.  I  dig 
Ntosake.  I  told  her,  "I  want 
you  to  make  all  the  money  you 
can  but  you  have  to  understand 
why  they  picked  you."  In  terms 
of  Black  men,  there  have  been 
problems  with  male/female  rela- 
tionships because  of  the  job  mar- 
ket and  because  of  the  way 
they've  been  treated  in  this 
society.  For  the  most  part, 
white  males  control  this  society, 
Ms.  magazine  not  withstanding. 
The  Feminists  run  around  talk- 
ing about  how  they're  liberated 
women.  They're  just  bored 
white  women  from  the  suburbs; 
that  doesn't  have  anything  to  do 
with  our  problem.  They're  bored 
because  they're  out  there  drink- 
ing 12  martinis  and  taking  care 
of  babies.  They  want  to  come  in 
and  work  and  be  flighty  and  fly 
too.  That  doesn't  have  anything 
to  do  with  the  problems  of  the 
brothers  in  the  Black  communi- 
ty. Black  men,  in  a  sense,  have 
been  victims  of  a  lot  of  things. 
I'm  not  trying  to  put  off  the 
women's  movement.  Violence 
comes  out  of  that  whole  situa- 
tion of  not  being  productive,  be- 
ing powerless,  not  having  any 
jobs,  not  having  enough  money 
to  support  your  woman,  to  send 
your  kids  to  college.  That  kind 
of  thing  has  created  the  situation 
that  now  exitst  which  began  in 
the  60's  and  70's,  the  practice  of 
killing  two  birds  with  one  stone 
by  giving  females  jobs  in  the  job 
market  -  a  woman  and  a  Black 
person.  That  has  created  a  lot 
of  other  problems.  With  the 
woman  making  more  money 
than  the  men,  they  (the  women) 
go  out  and  become  executives. 
A  lot  of  Black  men  are  insecure 
in  those  situations,  so  problems 
are  created.  What  I'm  saying  is 
that  it  is  planned  like  planned 
parenthood;  there's  a  blueprint 
for  the  destruction  of  black  men 
and  indeed.  Black  families.  It's 
been  planned  for  a  long  time. 


DRUM  -  Let's  talk  about  your  magazine 

American  Rag? 
Q.T.  -  I  started  American  Rag  about 
three  or  four  years  ago.  The 
Fredrick  Douglass  Creative  Arts 
Center,  where  I'm  the  special 
projects  director,  is  something 
I've  been  involved  with  for 
about  ten  years.  I  run  a  poetry 
workshop  there  every  Tuesday 
night.  I  talked  to  the  director 
of  the  Center  about  trying  to 
start  a  magazine.  He  went  out 
and  got  the  money  but  we  ran 
into  financial  problems.  The 
artistic  thrust  of  the  magazine  is 
that  it  would  not  just  publish 
poems,  stories,  interviews,  etc. 
but  that  it  would  also  publish 
cartoons,  photographs,  news- 
worthy items  so  that  it  would 
have  an  impact  outside  the  liter- 
ary circle.  You  wouldn't  beheve 
the  kind  of  impact  this  magazine 
had. 
DRUM  -  How  many  issues  did  yoj.  put 

out? 
Q.T.  -  We  put  out  three  issues.  The  mag- 
azine had  tremendous  impact, 
not  only  here  but  in  other 
places,  like  Africa.  People  ask 
me  about  the  magazine  all  the 
time.  I  think  that  my  vision  was 
"on  it"  in  terms  of  the  focus  of 
the  magazine.  The  magazine  has 
been  read  and  enjoyed  by  peo- 
ple in  the  most  obscure  places. 
I've  received  some  knocks  from 
some  Blacks  about  publishing 
Whites  in  the  magazine  but 
America  is  full  of  white  people 
just  like  its  full  of  Black  people. 
I  wanted  to  have  editorial  power 
to  direct  these  white  people  to 
some  kind  of  vision  of  the  fu- 
ture. If  you  make  a  magazine 
powerful  enough,  where  you 
have  everybody  in  it,  the  top 
writers,  you  can  change  and  in- 
fluence the  course  of  history  just 
as  Henry  Luce  did.  I  think  that 
we,  as  a  people,  have  to  begin 
thinking  about  influencing  for- 
eign policy.  We  should  be  in- 
fluencing internal  policy.  We 
should  be  helping  to  make  for- 
eign policy. 
DRUM  -  It  seems  that  in  my  generation, 
too  many  people  are  just  into 
the  movement;  we  aren't  global. 
What  are  we  going  to  do? 


Q.T.    -  Most  students   aren't   global.   I 
think  that  your  generation  is  the 
first    one    that    is    almost   fully 
assimilated    into   the   society.   I 
remember  a  time  when  we  didn't 
have  a  televison  set.  We  used  to 
go  across  the  street  to  the  com- 
munity   T.V.  where   everybody 
would   fight   over  the  shows.  I 
didn't  grow  up  in  a  T.V.  worid. 
I   grew   up  on  the  blues.   Your 
generation  is  the  first  one  that 
has    been     effectively     cut    off 
from  people  hke  Muddy  Waters. 
I    see    it   in   my   classes.   I   was 
embarrased    about    three   years 
ago  -  I  asked  my  Black  Studies 
class  if  they'd  heard  of  Johnny 
Lee   Hooker.   No   Blacks  raised 
their  hands.  A  white  boy  raised 
his  hand  ten  times.  None  of  the 
students  had  heard  of  Coltrane 
or    anybody,    except    this    one 
white    boy.    They    do    not    get 
back    into    things;   they're   just 
into    now;   that's    why    they're 
out    there    without   an   anchor. 
They      think      they're     totally 
American.    They    know   they're 
not  the  same  as  a  white  person 
but    they    try.    That's    why    all 
Black  students  should  take  Black 
Experience,     Black     Literature 
courses.    I    run    into   people   in 
New  York  all  the  time,  young 
Black  executives.  They're  stupid. 
They're  boring;  that's  the  worst 
thing   I  can  put  on  somebody. 
So  many  of  them  have  become 
totally     white,    divorced    from 
their  culture.  They  look  down 
their   noses   at   Black   "things". 
It's  frustrating  for  people  in  my 
generation,  becuase  we  sacrificed 
a    lot.    I    got    my    front    teeth 
knocked   out  by   a  police  man 
with  a  billy  club.  We  were  doing 
this  for  the  future.  Now  we  see 
these    people  who   don't   think 
about   nothing;  they   have   zips 
for  brains.  They're  smart.  They 
can    technically    do    things  but 
they  have  no  feeling  for  the  cul- 
ture, for  what  has  gone  on  in  the 
past.  I  think  that  young  Black 
people  have  to  make  a  concerted 
effort   to    find   their  past.   In  a 
lot  of  instances  the  only  place 
for  them  to  learn  is  in  college. 

DRUM  -  Thank  you  Mr.  Troupe. 


74 


"A  Book  Review  of 

the  Social  Thought  of  W.E.B.  Dubois" 


DuBois  was  born  five  years  after 
the  Emanicipatlon  Proclamation  Feb- 
ruary 23,  1968.  At  the  March  on 
Washington  in  August  1963,  before 
the  audience  of  200,000  marchers  and 
demonstrators,  DuBois's  death  the  day 
before,  August  22nd,  was  announced 
and  the  crowd  hushed.  Roy  Wilkins 
is  reported  to  have  said,  "Without  that 
old  man,  we  wouldn't  be  here  today." 
DuBois  lived  for  ninety-five  productive 
and  creative  years.  Most  of  those  years 
witnessed  DuBois  in  the  midst  of 
struggle  and  conflict.  The  subject  of 
the  strife  consistently  involved  racism 
and  economic  oppression  and  control 
of  minority  people  by  business  as  prac- 
ticed during  the  first  seven  decades  of 
this  centruy.  It  is  well  known  that  Du- 
Bois began  collecting  his  papers  at  the 
age  of  fifteen  while  living  in  Great 
Barrington,  MA.  It  may  also  be  known 
that  at  the  age  of  ninety-five  years 
and    five    months,    DuBois   writes   to 


Khrushchev  adminishing  him  on  the 
direction  his  adminstration  seemed 
embarked.  Chou-en  Lai  was  copied  in 
and  we  are  graphically  shown  by  Du- 
Bois that  for  eighty  years  he  was 
actively  involved  in  compiling  a  record 
of  his  struggles  against  the  tyrannies 
of  racism  and  economic  exploitation. 

On  the  centennial  celebration  of 
DuBois's  birthday  a  program  was  held 
honoring  him  in  Carnegie  Hall,  New 
York.  Dr.  Martin  Luther  King  was  the 
keynote  speaker.  Dr.  King's  address 
was  titled,  "Honoring  Dr.  DuBois." 
This  speech  was  to  be  the  last  major 
address  made  by  Dr.  King  before  his 
assassination  a  month  later.  In  that 
address  Dr.  King  says. 

When  white  America  corrupted 
Negro  history  they  distorted  Ameri- 
can history  because  Negroes  are 
too  big  a  part  of  the  building  of  this 
nation  to  be  written  out  of  it  with- 


out destroying  scientific  history  .  . . 
Dr.  DuBois  confronted  this  power- 
ful structure  of  historical  distortion 
and  dismantled  it.  He  virtually, 
before  anyone  else  and  more  than 
anyone  else,  demolished  the  lies 
about  Negroes  in  their  most  impor- 
tant and  creative  period  of  history. 
The  truths  he  revealed  are  not  yet 
the  property  of  all  Americans  but 
they  have  been  recorded  and  arm  us 
for  our  contemporary  battles. 

The  Social  Thought  of  W.E.B.  DuBois 
by  Joseph  P.  DeMarco 
Copyright  1983  -  202  pages 
University  Press  of  America 
Lanham,  New  York,  London 

It  is  clear  that  the  author.  Professor 
DeMarco  intented  his  work,  "The 
Social  Thought  of  W.E.B.  DuBois",  to 
present  what  he  takes  to  be  insights 


75 


of  the  social  thought  and  development 
of  that  social  thought  of  William 
Edward  Burghardt  DuBois.  The  effort 
presented  by  Professor  DeMarco  fol- 
lows a  major  work  by  Arnold  Ramper- 
sad,  'The  Art  and  Imagination  of 
W.E.B.  DuBois"  (1976),  and  a  paper 
presented  in  Philosophical  Forum, 
S/W  1977-78,  "DuBois  and  Fanon  on 
Culture",  by  Bernard  Boxill.  Addition- 
ally there  have  been  other  papers  pre- 
sented at  various  programs  across  the 
country  within  the  recent  years 
addressing  the  legacy  of  the  social 
thought  and  philosophy  left  by 
DuBois.  Unfortunately,  these  papers 
have  not  been  collected  under  one 
cover.  Because  of  the  small  number  of 
recent  works  the  time  is  ripe  for  a 
new  work  examining  DuBois's  philo- 
sophy and  social  thought.  It  was 
hoped  that  this  work  by  Professor 
DeMarco  would  be  the  work  long 
awaited.  Alas,  it  is  not.  This  work  by 
Professor  DeMarco  may  be  adequate 
for  those  who  have  had  but  a  first 
blush  with  the  thought  of  DuBois. 
However,  DeMarco  offers  the  reader 
much  theory  but  with  little  substance. 
The  DeMarco  work  has  an  "Intro- 
duction", six  chapters,  202  pages, 
523  end-notes  and  NO  index.  Of  the 
523  end-notes  only  three  are  citations 
of  statements  excerpted  from  a  work 
written  after  1971.  Those  three  end- 
notes come  from  the  same  source, 
"The  Art  and  Imagination  of  W.E.B. 
DuBois",  by  Arnold  Rampersad.  The 
shame  of  not  including  freshly  gather- 
ed material  compiled  during  the  seven 
year  gap  (1976-1983)  is  due  to  the 
availability  of  microfilm  of  the  Col- 
lected Papers  of  W.E.B.  DuBois 
opened  in  1980  by  the  University  of 
Massachusetts  Library  Archives/ 
Amherst.  In  fact,  since  the  1980  open- 
ing of  the  DuBois  Papers,  complement- 
ing material  in  the  form  of  disserta- 
tions, theses,  journal  articles,  record- 
ings, tapes  and  video  have  been  locat- 
ed. Consequently,  a  contemporary  dis- 
cussion of  the  development,  change 
and  enuciation  of  the  social  thought 
of  DuBois  should  make  use  of  the 
150,000  items  of  correspondence  and 
personal  papers,  as  well  as  the 
auxiliary  material  in  the  DuBois  Papers 
Collection.  And,  if  it  should  be  the 
case  that  the  material  available  in  the 
Collection  is  of  little  assistance,  at 
least    the   mentioning  of  that   newly 


available  source  could  be  expected. 
DeMarco  is  mute  on  the  question 
"What  is  the  latest  opinion  of  'What  is 
the  social  theory  of  DuBois?'  " 

The  most  basic  question  we  must 
have  answered  after  having  read  De- 
Marco's  work  is  "How  well  has  the 
author  come  to  know  his  subject?"  As 
a  reviewer  I  would  assume  that  any 
work  presently  done  about  W.E.B. 
DuBois,  and  which  is  not  the  scholarly 
biography  called  for  by  Rayford  W. 
Logan  in  his  "Introduction"  to  his 
edited  work  W.E.B.  DuBois:  A  Profile, 
must  reflect  the  author's  grasp  of  the 
DuBois  biography.  For  all  the  effort 
and  the  work  which  is  contained  in 
The  Social  Thought  of  W.E.B.  DuBois, 
it  is  sad  to  discover  that  the  author, 
though  well  intentioned,  is  uninform- 
ed. DeMarco's  basic  notion  is  that 
there  is  found  in  DuBois's  statements 
and  writings  a  rational  social  theory. 
DeMarco  suggest  that  DuBois  social 
thought  is  divided  into  four  periods. 
In  one  period  DuBois  borders  on 
elitist  argument,  i.e.  the  attachment 
he  had  with  the  notion  of  the  role 
of  a  "talented  tenth".  A  second 
period  is  marked  when  DuBois  begins 
to  ground  his  social  thought  upon  an 
economic  theory  which  would  have 
him  argue  for  cooperative  attitudes 
of  cultural  and  economic  descriptions 
for  the  Negro.  A  third  period  is  mark- 
ed by  DuBois  embracing  a  more 
radical  socialist  theory  which  leads 
him  to  argue  for  African  socialism 
and  a  pan-communism.  DeMarco  also 
gives  attention  to  DuBois's  early  and 
developmental  social  thought  expres- 
sed during  the  years  of  his  strong 
academe  immersion,  "the  age  of 
miracles",  1885-1896.  The  point  is 
that  no  matter  how  clearly  an  author 
attempts  to  state  the  case  for  a  given 
expression  of  "social  thought"  at  a 
given  time,  if  that  author  does  not 
have  an  accurate  sense  and  reading 
of  the  time  and  of  the  central  charac- 
ter, then  the  author's  interpretations 
and  assertations  not  only  suffer,  they 
become  suspect.  This  is  the  case  with 
Professor  DeMarco's  work. 

All  of  this  said  we  come  again  to 
the  central  question,  "How  well  does 
DeMarco  understand  DuBois?"  To 
answer  this  question  I  turn  to  page  65 
of  DeMarco's  work: 

The  full  turn  toward  activism 

was  pinpointed  by  duBois  to  one 


significant  event  .  .  .  in  195  the 
event  occured  which  led  DuBois 
into  a  leadership  role  against 
Washington.  Washington  was  in 
Boston  delivering  a  speech,  and 
Trotter  openly  confronted  him  .  .  . 
this  led  to  a  jail  term  for  Trotter. 
PiS  Rampersad  points  out:  "This 
act  of  humiliation  against  a  man  of 
his  own  class  and  general  sympath- 
ies seems  to  have  shaken  him  into 
confronting  the  power  of  the 
Washington  following  and  the  limits 
of  his  own  influence."  DuBois  con- 
sidered jailing  unjustified  and  view- 
ed it  as  the  catalyst  leading  him  to 
aid  in  the  formation  of  a  political 
movement  against  Washington. 

What  I  am  to  argue  is  that  the  date 
given  by  DeMarco  of  1905,  given  for 
the  event  of  signifigance,  is  wrong.  It 
is  not  wrong  as  a  typographical  error. 
Rather  its  wrongness  highlights  the 
type  of  misunderstanding  of  DuBois 
evident  throughout  DeMarco's  work. 
The  Rampersad  passage  which  De- 
Marco  cites  is  found  on  page  92  of 
Rampersad's  The  Art  and  Imagination 
of  W.E.B.  DuBois.  There  Rampersad 
states,  ".  .  .  Trotter  nevertheless 
plunged  into  the  fray  and  went  to  jail 
on  the  night  of  July  30,  1903." 
An  author  who  is  familiar  with  Du- 
Bois's biography  might  then  question 
the  suggestion  of  1905.  DeMarco  ap- 
parently didn't.  Yet  the  "significant" 
event  which  DuBois  pinpointed  sup- 
posedly DeMarco  accepts.  The  concern 
of  how  well  DeMarco  knows  his  sub- 
ject is  high  lighted  when  he  asserts 
that  the  movement  which  was  to  be 
the  result  of  this  significant  event; 
the  movement  DuBois  was  to  help 
lead  in  its  opposition  to  Washington, 
was  the  Niagara  Movement.  The  impli- 
cation of  DeMarco  is  that  the  Niagara 
Movement  was  a  result  of  actions  be- 
gun in  1905  -  this  is  wrong.  This  impli- 
cation is  not  even  supported  by  De- 
Marco's own  words.  If  we  were  to  give 
him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  and  allow 
that  he  knew  correctly  the  date  of 
Trotter's  arrest,  July  30th  of  some 
year,  what  sense  does  it  make  to  then 
assert  that  DuBois  was  prepared  to  call 
and  did  call  a  convention  and  that, 
"Twenty-nine  people  responded  to  his 
invitation  to  meet  in  July  1905,  in 
Canada  near  Niagara  Falls."  For  a 
scholar  who  understands  DuBois  the 


76 


name  Niagara  Movement  is  something 
special.  In  May  of  1905  DuBois  was 
seeking  out  locations  to  host  his  con- 
ference. In  a  letter  dated  May  19, 
1905  DuBois  writes  to  a  Mr.  Crosby  of 
Buffalo,  N.Y.: 

"There  are  about  30  perhaps  40, 
men  who  may  want  to  meet  for  a 
quiet  conference  in  or  near  Buffalo 
about  the  second  week  in  July." 
REEL  1  frame  708 
The   point  of  seeking  a   place  for  a 
quiet    conference    is    stressed    in   this 
same  letter's  conclusion  when  DuBois 
requests,  "Please  mention  this  matter 
to  no  one.  .  ."  The  Niagara  Movement 
.was  not  a  sudden  reaction  to  an  unfor- 
tunate event.  A  scholar  writing  about 
DuBois's  social   thought  should  have 
appreciation    for    DuBois's    sense    of 
time    and    his    routine    of   planning. 
Clearly   DeMarco  lacks  this  apprecia- 
tion   about    important    and    relevant 
events  and  issues  which  bear  directly 
upon  his  arguments. 

A  mistake,  such  as  the  one  De- 
Marco  makes,  raises  serious  questions 
for  the  mistake  begins  to  seep  into 
other  discussions.  It  is  important  to 
consistently  view  the  beginning  of  the 
actions  which  will  lead  to  the  creation 
of  the  Niagara  Movement  to  be  1903. 
It  is  clear  from  the  correspondence 
which  DuBois  received  after  the  pub- 
lication of  The  Souls  of  Black  Folk 
in  April  1903,  that  there  were  many  in 
various  parts  of  the  country  who  were 
looking  for  a  champion  to  stand  op- 
posite Booker  T.  Washington,  and 
those  letters  urge  DuBois  to  be  he. 
DuBois's  foresight  when  gauged  from 
the  1903  date,  and  not  from  the  1905 
date,  is  then  accurately  measured.  For 
example,  the  following  is  from  a  June 
27,  1903,  letter  from  the  well  known 
Black  author  Charles  W.  Chesnutt  to 
DuBois: 

"...  I  have  not  forgotten  what  you 

say  about  a  national  Negro  journal 

.  What  the  Negro  needs  more 

than    anything    else    is   a   medium 

through  which  he  can  present  his 

case  . .  ."  REEL  1  frame  589 

The  journal  which  is  mentioned  here 

will  become  the  journal  of  the  Niagara 

Movement    some    four    years    later, 

The  Horizon.  The  point  here  is  that 

DuBois    in    June    1903,   was   already 

beginning    to    marshall    sympathetic 

Negro    professionals    who    could    be 


counted  on  to  close  ranks  in  opposi- 
tion to  Washington  and  the  Tuskegee 
Machine  backed  by  Andrew  Carnegie, 
Jacob  Schiff,  J.G.  Phelps  Stokes, 
George  Foster  Peabody,  etc.  And  then 
finally  we  have  a  December  28,  1903 
letter  to  George  F.  Peabody  in  which 
DuBois  says: 

...  I  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Wash- 
ington was  in  Boston  or  intending 
to  go  there  as  I  had  just  left  him  at 
Tuskee.  I  had  no  correspondence 
with  Trotter  for  six  months  save 
in  regard  to  a  boarding  place. 
When  I  arrived  in  Boston  and  heard 
of  the  meeting  I  told  Mr.  Trotter 
and  Mr.  Forbes  in  plain  terms  my 
decided  disapproval  of  the  unfor- 
tunate occurance  and  my  convic- 
tion that  it  would  do  harm.  Al- 
though I  was  unable  at  the  time  to 
defend  Mr.  Washington's  position 
as  I  once  had,  I  nevertheless  took 
occasion  to  address  a  meeting  of 
men  at  Mr.  Trotter's  home  and  re- 
mind them  of  the  vast  difference 
between  criticizing  Mr.  Washinton's 
policy  and  attacking  him  personal- 
ly. 
"The  Correspondence  of  WEED",  p  68 
vol.  1 

"The  Souls  of  Black  Folk  is  a  milepost 
in  measuring  the  development  of  Du- 
Bois social  thought  and  statement.  Yet 
how  can  a  reader  trust  the  interpreta- 
tion of  this  work  if  the  author  fails  to 
understand  the  immediate  conse- 
quences of  the  work  in  question? 

This  same  type  of  "selective 
scholarship"  which  is  evident  in  De- 
Marco's  work  in  this  regard,  appears 
throughout  the  discussion.  In  Chapter 
Two:  Racial  Solidarity  and  the  Talent- 
ed Tenth,  DeMarco  argues  that  DuBois 
Philosophical  background  and  theore- 
tical support  for  his  concept  of  race 
was  pragmatic.  He  argues  that  this 
pragmatic  underpinning 

.  .  .  was  not  systematically  de- 
fended, but  it  is,  at  key  points  high- 
ly analogous  to  the  ethical  theory 
developed  by  his  mentor  at  Har- 
vard, Josiah  Royce.  (The  Social 
Thought  p.  37) 
WRONG!! 

There  is  only  one  name  connected  to 
the  notion  of  pragmatism  which 
DuBois  mentioned  i.e.  William  James. 
Even  by  DeMarco's  own  reading 
Royce's  pragmatic  theory  may  have 
been  influenced  by  DuBois.  However, 


to  base  a  chapter  of  a  work  such  as 
this  upon  a  pragmatic  theory  and  not 
only  elevate  a  professor  of  DuBois  to 
a  positon  he  never  held  in  regard  to 
DuBois,  but,  furthermore,  to  expunge 
from    the    record,    James    (who    was 
called  by  DuBois  "mentor"  and  whose 
personal    relationship    outlasted    Du- 
Bois's years  at  Harvard  and  included 
family  members  such  as  Henry  James) 
is  inexcusable.  What  DuBois  said  is, 
I  determined  to  go  to  the  best  un- 
iversity in  the  land  and  if  possible 
in   the  world,  to   discover  Truth, 
which  I  spelled  with  a  capital.  For 
two  years  I  studied  under  William 
James    while    he    was    developing 
Pragmatism;  .  .  .  and  under  Josiah 
Royce  and  his  Hegelian  idealism  . .  . 
The  Jamesian  Pragmatism  as  I  un- 
derstood it  from  his  lips  was  not 
based    on    the    "usefulness"    of   a 
hypothesis    but    on    its    workable 
logic  if  its  truth  was  assumed  .  .  . 
vol  3  pp  394-5 

New  York  City 
January  10, 1956 
DuBois  to  Aptheker 
Selected  scholarship  can  be  danger- 
ous.  Chapter  IV  of  DeMarco's  work 
is   devoted   entirely   to  "Black  Recon- 
struction". Though  there  is  a  conclud- 
ing sentence  which  reads  "Black  Re- 
construction, while  it  rejects  Marx  also 
presents    a   wide-reaching   critique   of 
Americancapitalism,  "  in  almost  thirty 
pages  of  discussion  he  has  developed 
four  theoretical  points  which  are  all 
given  with  Marx  or  Lenin  as  reference: 

1.  Throughout  Black  Reconstruction 
DuBois  approached  the  problem  of 
historical  interpretation  from  a 
Marxian  perspecitve. 

2.  DuBois  focused  on  economic  class 
interests,  both  on  the  North  and  in 
the  South  to  demonstrate  the  pos- 
sibilities of  a  victorious,  unified 
proletariat  movement .  .  . 

3.  His  position  was  at  odds  with 
Marxism  at  three  areas. 

4.  The  conclusions  of  Black  Recon- 
struction tended  to  support  Du- 
Bois' reliance  on  a  black  economic 
co-operative  movement. 

Surely  there  are  other  interpretations 
of  the  type  of  statement  DuBois  attem- 
pted to  make  in  the  social  thought 
presented  within  Black  Reconstruc- 
tion. Surely  it  would  be  interesting  to 
present  an  alternative  discussion  which 
brings  fresh  light  to  the  topic. 


77 


DON  KING 


by  Leah  Loftis 


"Every  promoter  is  a  hustler,  a  beggar, 
really,  because  he  can't  disguise  the  fact 
that  he  needs  other  people's  money. 
He's  his  own  PR  man.  Don's  more  than 
a  friend  to  the  Black  fighters.  King  has 
stated  that  he  feels  he  has  been  blessed 
with  a  special  magic  that  insures  his 
success,  draws  people  to  his  side  and 
pulls  him  from  the  mire  of  his  problems. 
He  proclaims,  "My  magic  lies  in  my 
people  ties",  "I  want  young  people  to 
look  at  me  and  say  he  made  it  despite 
all  the  odds  and  that  no  matter  how  bad 
things  are  for  me,  I  still  have  a  chance 
to  make  something  successful  of  my- 
self." King  has  established  a  relationship 
with  the  fighter  that  is  unprecedented. 
He  has  brought  the  word  "loyalty"  back 
into  being.  King  says,  "It  was  almost 
extinct  in  this  particular  business.  My 
most  gratifying  experience  was  to  have 
fighters  like  Larry  Holmes  and  Roberto 
Duran  who  had  the  opportunity  to 
wander  and   go   off,  who  would  have 


been  heralded  for  it,  but  they  didn't 
forget  that  King  struggled  with  them. 
So  I  love  Larry  Holmes  and  I  love 
Roberto  Duran,  I  could  easily  with- 
draw my  allegiance  from  Roberto 
Duran  especially  so  when  he  found 
himself  in  a  very  tainted  preddicament. 
I  never  did,  I  remained  stead  fast  and 
loyal." 

Don  King's  accomplishments  go  far 
beyond  boxing.  Named  one  of  the  most 
influential  Americans  by  People  Maga- 
zine, in  1974,  and  "the  most  powerful 
promoter  in  sports  and  one  of  the  most 
successful  black  businessmen  in 
America  "  by  Time  Magazine,  Don  King 
is  the  recipient  of  numerous  awards, 
prizes  and  honoary  degrees.  Among 
these,  along  with  former  First  Lady, 
Betty  Ford,  and  Justice  William  O. 
Douglas,  he  received  the  Urban  Justice 
Award  in  1976.  He  was  also  awarded 
the   Heritage   Award,   has  been  named 


Man  of  the  Year  by  the  National  Black 
Hall  of  Fame,  Minority  Businessman  of 
the  Year  by  the  Greater  Washington 
Business  Center,  and  Internaitonal  Busi- 
nessman of  the  Year  in  Cleveland.  He 
has  two  honorary  doctorate  degrees  and 
has  received  honorary  citizenship  and 
citizen  awards  from  several  countries  as 
well  as  keys  to  cities  all  across  the 
United  States.  He  is  recognized  by  many 
national  and  international  organizations 
as  a  leading  contributor  and  philan- 
thropist to  worthy  causes. 

The  All- Foreman  fight  inZaireland, 
the  Ali-Fraizier  "Thrilla  in  Manilla", 
seen  by  over  one  billion  viewers  world- 
wide, the  Norton-Young  match,  which 
paid  the  largest  purse  ever  for  contend- 
ers up  to  that  time;  and  the  Larry 
Holmes'  defeat  of  Ken  Norton  to  win 
the  WBC  Heavyweight  Championship, 
are  some  of  the  big  fights  that  he  has 
promoted  that  made  boxing  popular 
again  and  brought  it  back  to  promin- 


78 


ence.  The  entire  field  of  boxing  iias 
been  changed  by  King,  promoting  Light- 
heavyweight,  Middleweight,  Welter- 
weight, Superwelterweight,  Lightweight, 
Featherweight,  Superbantaniweight,  and 
Superlightweight  boxing.,  Through 
King,  the  lighweights  have  achieved 
more  stature  and  more  money  than  ever 
thought  possible. 

Don  King  now  runs  a  successful 
business  conglomerate  including  Don 
King  Productions,  Inc.  (boxing  promo- 
tion); Don  King  Sports  and  Entertain- 
ment Network  (DKSEN);  and  D.  K. 
Chemicals.  King  is  a  devoted  family 
man.  His  family  includes  his  wife,  Hen- 
rietta, and  three  grown  children,  Eric, 
Deborah  and  Carl.  Carl  and  Debbie  are 
in  boxing  promotion  with  their  father. 
Boxers  from  all  over  the  world,  includ- 
ing current  champions,  utilize  the  King 
Training  Camp. 

What  comes  to  mind  at  the  mention 
of  the  name  Don  King?  Does  one  think 
of  a  loud  voice,  tuxedos,  wild  hair  or 
maybe  --  his  reputation  as  bieng  the 
world's  greatest  boxing  promoter?  Well, 
Don  King  has  done  it  all  He  is  a  living 
legend  who  has  promoted  more  than 
100  Championship  fights  in  10  years. 

He  is  the  6'  4"  man  with  the  wild 
hair  that  stands  up  as  if  electrifies;  it 
has  become  a  symbol  of  strength  and 
wild  imagination.  If  one  looks  closely 
enough,  one  can  see  that  his  hair,  now  a 
trademark,  is  shaped  like  a  crown. 
King  is  always  seen  wearing  a  tuxedo, 
smoking  a  cigar  and  talking  loudly  and 
authoritavely  about  what  he  is  going  to 
do  next. 

King  came  from  a  middle  class  family 
in  Cleveland,  Ohio.  His  father,  Clarence 
King,  worked  as  a  laborer  who  pulled 
plugs  form  a  steel  smelter.  One  dark 
day,  December  7,  1941,  the  plug  stuck, 
the  smelter  blew  and  as  a  result,  his 
father  was  killed.  The  company  paid  the 
family  through  a  settlement.  "In  the 
ghetto,  we  call  that  tragedy  money", 
said  King.  "My  mother,  Hattie,  took  the 
money  she  got  for  the  flesh  of  my 
father  (there  were  seven  kids)  and 
bought  a  house.  I  was  ten  years  old", 
said  King. 

King's  remembers  battling  with 
roaches  in  the  basement  of  the  tene- 
ment building  where  he  lived  as  a 
youngster.  He  would  spray  the  bugs 
furiously  with  bottles  of  white  poison. 
To   his  amazement,  the   roaches    kept 


coming.  King  also  spent  many  days 
running  to  deliver  "squalling  chickens" 
to  the  slaughter  house  for  Hymie's 
Chicken  Shack;  surviving  street  life,  and 
running  numbers  in  Cleveland.  He  en- 
joyed boxing  and  even  dabbled  at  fight- 
ing in  high  school.  He  boxed  as  a  112 
pounder  at  age  18.  King  was  a  fan  of 
Paul  Simpson,  the"  boxer,  and  used  to 
carry  his  bags  to  the  gym  whenever  he 
fought  in  Cleveland.  At  one  time,  King 
fought  in  New  York  and  was  doing  fine 
until  he  was  knocked  out  after  the 
second  round  of  a  fight.  He  never 
fought  again.  King  admired  Sugar  Ray 
Robinson  and  Joe  Louis.  Of  Louis, 
King  says,  "Joe  Louis  was  truly  an 
American  hero,  not  just  to  Blacks  but 
to  all  Americans". 

King  thought  about  pursuing  a  career 
in  law,  but  that  was  too  remote,  a  world 
away,  white  man's  stuff.  Then  he  decid- 
ed to  work  the  numbers  racket  in  Cleve- 
land. King  stated,  "I  was  the  best 
numbers  operator  the  business  ever 
had".  At  age  10,  he  started  selling  pea- 
nuts and  candy  to  operators  and 
customers  in  Cleveland's  numbers 
places.  He  learned  the  business  as  he 
sold  peanuts  and  by  the  time  he  was 
grown,  he  knew  all  there  was  to  know 
about  running  numbers.  "Doesn't  hurt 
anybody  much,"  King  stated.  "The 
numbers  got  some  people  "nigger  rich", 
you  know,  like  bingo  in  the  white 
community.  A  well-run  number  game  is 
probably  as  fair  as  a  state  lottery  by 
being  illegal  and  Black;  it  is  more  exotic. 
In  each  community,  number  operators 
have  to  work  with  each  other  to  stay 
alive,  "  King  says.  "You  need  a  'rhap- 
sody in  Black'  "  King  ran  his  own 
numbers  game  flamboyantly  and  soon 
bankrolled  other  operators.  He  always 
paid  off  in  public  and  in  full. 

"Sam",  the  man  Don  King  was  con- 
victed of  killing,  was  an  ex-convict, 
working  as  King's  lay  off  man  in  the 
business.  King  remembers  that  when 
"Sam"  got  out  of  prison,  he  bought 
himself  some  new  clothes  and  teeth  but 
turned  around  and  bit  him  (King). 
"Sam"  ran  off  with  some  money  and 
King  would  not  let  him  work  until  he 
made  it  up  to  him.  King  himself  placed 
a  bet  which  hit  but  "Sam"  never  paid. 
They  had  words: 

King:  You've  got  to  take  care  of 
this,  I've  got  to  keep  my  reputation. 

Sam:  I  will  take  care  of  it,  it's  an 
overlook. 


King:  You  better  take  care  of  it  if 
you  ever  want  to  work  with  me  again. 

Voices  rose.  King  walked  out  into 
the  street  and  Sam  followed  him,  shout- 
ing. "Sam"  jumped  King  from  behind 
and  the  men  began  to  fight.  King 
knocked  "Sam"  down  and  kicked  him. 
"Sam's"  head  kicked  the  curb  and 
seven  days  later,  he  died. 

According  to  King,  the  first  charge 
against    him    was    aggravated    assault. 

However,  King  was  famous  in  certain 
quarters  of  the  Cleveland  Police  De- 
partment. "Numbers  Overlord  was  my 
title  of  damnation  .  .  .  When  they  found 
out  that  I  was  Don  King,  the  charge  was 
changed  to  murder  two,  second  degree 
homicide.  The  judge  reduced  it  to  man- 
slaughter and  1-20  but  at  the  trial,  I  had 
no  chance  of  getting  another  reduction 
or  going  free.  I  might  have  if  ghetto 
people  had  judged  but -I  didn't  have  a 
jury  of  my  peers.  I  was  tried  before  a 
jury  of  middle  class  whites  shortly  after 
the  riots  of  the  1960's."  He  got  20  years 
but  was  out  in  four.  In  1983,  he  was 
granted  a  full  pardon  by  Governor 
James  Rhodes.  At  the  time  of  the  sen- 
tence, he  did  not  appeal  because  he  was 
afraid  of  the  legal  system.  Whiel  King 
was  in  prison,  his  wife,  Henrietta, 
maintained  the  rolling  farm  he  had 
bought  and  the  family  remained  solvent. 

The  refuge  of  the  prison  library  saved 
him.  He  was  suddnely  an  explorer  of 
a  geography  he  had  never  known  about. 
King  studied  incessanlty  and  memorized 
the  works  of  the  world's  greatest  philo- 
sophers and  literary  immortals. 

King's  world  had  been  Cadillacs, 
money,  little  slips  of  paper  (numbers) 
and  danger.  He  credits  the  prison  system 
for  the  change.  In  prison,  he  made  time 
his  servant  rather  than  his  master.  He 
took  a  correspondence  course  from 
Ohio  University  for  four  years  and 
maintained  a  4.0  average.  He  kept  his 
head  together  by  thinking  and  reading. 
As  a  younster.  King  had  always  liked 
school.  So  after  high  school,  his  older 
brother  Carl,  let  Don  to  take  over  his 
numbers  route  so  that  Don  could  earn 
tuition  money  for  Kent  State  Univer- 
sity. He  earned  what  he  needed  and  was 
accepted  into  a  pre-law  program.  Un- 
fortunately, he  left  one  of  the  betting 
slips  in  the  window  box  and  forgot  to 
turn  it  in  to  the  bookie.  The  number  hit 
and  he  had  to  use  his  tuition  money  to 
pay  it  off.  King  asked  the  bookie  for  a 


79 


loan  and  was  refused.  Consequently, 
he  continued  his  200  dollars  a  week 
business  and  in  a  year  and  a  half,  had 
the  bookie  and  his  brother  working  for 
him. 

His  special  interest  while  serving  time 
in  the  Ohio  Penetentiary  was  the  libr- 
rary's  fiction  shelf.  Shakespeare,  Moliere 
and  Voltaire  are  a  few  of  the  authors 
whom  King  quotes  regularly.  King 
moved  from  the  ghetto,  to  the  jail  cell 
to  the  height  and  depth  of  the  fight 
business.  Believe  it  or  not,  King's  hair 
was  cut  close  at  one  time.  However,  he 
started  letting  it  grow  wild  after  his 
release  from  prison. 

Six  months  after  his  release  from  pri- 
son, King  organized  a  promotion  for 
Forest  City  Hospital  in  Cleveland.  Wil- 
son Pickett  sang,  Lou  Rawls  told  jokes 
and  Muhammad  Ali  fought  four  dif- 
ferent men  in  ten  rounds  of  sparring. 
The  promotion  was  a  hit.  King  organ- 
ized the  promotion  out  of  a  sense  of 
mission.  King  turned  from  numbers  to 
boxing  and  never  looked  back.  Madison 
Square  Garden  and  Teddy  Brenner,  the 
matchmaker  gave  King  his  start.  Madi- 
son Square  Garden,  its  stockholders  and 
Brenner  thought  that  boxing  was  dying 
out  but  King  was  out  to  prove  him 
wrong. 

Starting  from  scratch.  King  has 
blended  the  proper  business  acumen 
(with  assistance  from  his  partner  at  the 
time.  Hank  Schwartz  in  1975)  with  the 
right  amount  of  "old-time-hustle"  and 
"new-time-jive"  to  become  the  number 
one  boxing  promoter  in  the  land.  His 
love  for  boxing  has  brought  the  sport 
back  to  being  one  of  the  most  popular 
sports  around.  Along  with  improving 
the  quality  of  boxing.  King  has  contri- 
buted to  the  sport  by  increasing  the 
safety  standards  and  making  boxing  a 
respectable  sport.  This  is  the  first  time 
that  a  Black  man  has  attained  that 
status  even  though  Blacks  dominate  the 
sport  inside  the  ropes.  All  other  pro- 
moters before  Don  King  stayed  in  the 
shadow,  i.e.  promoters  such  as  Bob 
Arum,  and  the  Bolan  brothers,  shrewd 
men  with  no  personalities.  "Nobody 
wanted  to  be  up  front  before  me,  "  says 
King,  "they  all  want  to  sit  back,  collect 
their  money,  and  play  dirty  tricks  on 
each  other.  Even  on  the  ones  who 
worked  for  them.  But  I'm  out  there.  If 
you  can't  see  me,  you're  color  blind." 
"My  name  is  on  everything",  continues 
King,    "It's    Don    King    Productions". 


Harold  Conrad,  who  worked  with  many 
promoters  said  that  once  a  promoter 
gets  a  license,  he  feels  that  he  has  the 
right  to  steal.  King  is  different:  he  del- 
livers  what  he  promises  on  time.  King 
also  has  the  ability  to  see  and  foresee. 

One  of  the  most  successful  Black 
men  in  the  world  today  is  Donald  Ferris 
King,  However,  one  would  never  know 
that  by  looking  in  magazines  like 
Black  Enterprise  or  in  any  other  publi- 
cation about  successful  Blacks.  His  busi- 
ness education  came  only  through  a  cor- 
respondence course  he  took  through 
Ohio  University  while  in  prison;  it  was 
a  course  in  economics.  While  some 
managers  and  promoters  lived  richly  on 
exotic  beaches  from  the  money  of  prize- 
fighters whom  they  have  tossed  aside 
penniless.  King  made  the  fighters  mil- 
lionares.  There  were  some  fighters  who 
couldn't  get  the  "time  of  day"  from 
promoters  until  King  gave  the  nearly 
forgotten  fighters  like  Ernie  Shavers  and 
Ken  Norton  a  chance  to  become 
wealthy.  Ken's  high  command  is  a  good 
example  of  how  things  work  in  boxing 
promotion.  For  instance,  one  never  lets 
a  grudge  get  in  the  way  of  making 
money.  Mike  Malitz  and  King's  rival 
Bob  Arum  worked  with  him  in  1975. 
Schwartz  was  King's  former  boss  at 
Video  Technique  and  made  King  vice- 
president  at  the  time.  Some  time  after. 
King  went  into  business  for  himself. 
King  used  Schwartz  as  a  advisor  of  tech- 
nical equipment.  Malitz  had  the  know- 
ledge of  when  the  money  is  and  how  to 
collect  it;  that  is  why  King  worked  with 
him.  He  worked  with  Bob  Arum  be- 
cause of  his  legal  mind.  Now  that  King 
is  successful.  Arum  is  not  as  popular  as 
before.  King  mentioned  in  the  Sepia 
magazine  issue  of  September  15,  1975, 
that  Arum  said  that  King  was  a  more 
talented  promoter  than  he.  In  the 
same  issue.  King  says  that  he  is  hon- 
est and  kind  and  that  he  holds  no 
grudges  against  anyone,  even  the  people 
who  try  to  beat  him.  In  promoting  the 
Ali-Grazier  fight.  King  hired  Bob  Arum 
to  handle  the  business  of  dealing  with 
theater  owners  in  the  closed  circuit 
telecast  of  the  fight.  After  this  deal, 
Don  King  made  another  deal  with  Arum 
but  Arum  fell  through  on  it  and  that 
is  what  started  the  rivalry  between 
them.  King  respects  Bob  Arum  because 
he's  a  tenacious,  ruthless  and  vicious 
competitor.  Plus,  King  says  Arum  is  not 
to   be   taken   lightly.    From   a  humane 


point  of  view.  King  dislikes  Arum 
making  money  off  Black  fighter  by 
taking  them  to  aparthed  South  Africa 
where  Blacks  are  indiscrimately  killed 
and  raped  and  plundered  without  any 
form  of  redress. 

King's  self -proclaimed  "best  move" 
in  aiming  at  becoming  involved  in  box- 
ing was  when  he  was  with  Muhammad 
Ali  dealing  with  Hebert  Muhammad, 
All's  manager.  The  King-All  team  soared 
the  promoter  to  fame  in  boxing  circles 
and  to  a  fortune.  Not  long  after  the 
union,  the  Ali  camp  thought  that  King 
was  getting  a  little  too  much  of  the 
spotlight  so  the  team  was  split  up.  Ali 
ended  up  going  to  the  white  promoter 
Arum.  On  September  15,  1975,  Sports 
Illustrated  reported  that  King  was  think- 
ing of  purchasing  a  major  movie  com- 
pany. "I'm  too  big  to  be  described  as  a 
fight  promoter".  King  said  in  Sepia 
Magazine  interview,  October  1975.  "I'm 
also  branching  out  into  different  things; 
football  players  want  me  to  work  in 
their  contracts.  More  immediate  is  my 
sudden  thrust  into  big  team  sports  and 
music  as  a  packager  and  manager  of 
careers".  Also  from  the  Sprots  Illustrat- 
ed of  the  same  issue.  King  stated  that  he 
had  already  signed  85  black  pro-football 
players,  with  more  to  follow  in  basket- 
ball and  baseball.  In  1982  King  signed  a 
Heisman  Trophy  winner,  a  No.  1  draft 
choice,  Billy  Sims.  But  Billy  Sims  went 
to  another  agent  after  signing  with  King. 
King  never  sued  Sims  even  though  he 
had  a  case  because  King  didn't  think  it 
was  right  for  him  to  go  into  a  new  busi- 
ness suing  players.  Overnight,  it  seems, 
he  could  become  one  of  the  most 
powerful  men  in  all  of  sports.  Don  King 
is  boxing,  the  man  with  the  show,  the 
man  with  the  fistful  of  dollars  and  the 
imagination  to  match,  and  "street 
genius". 

King  is  a  decent  human  being  who 
has  faults  such  as  being  too  loud  at 
times,  but  he  is  a  fenerouse  and  sensitive 
man.  Loyalty  is  almost  nonexistent  in 
boxing,  but  King  commands  is  and  it  is 
given  to  him  because  he  is  strong  and 
fair.  Don  King's  words  are  one  of  his 
most  important  natural  resources. 
"Don's  personality,  his  way  of  over- 
whelming people,  is  an  essential  part  of 
promoting",  says  Hank  Schwartz,  who 
gave  King  his  first  promoting  job  in 
1973,  putting  him  on  the  payroll  of 
Schwartz  Video  Techniques  Co.  to  land 
the   Frazier-Foreman  fight  in  Jamaica. 


80 


// 


Dorothy  Love  Coates 

and  the 
Gospel  Harmonettes 

WINNERS 


// 


Gospel  music,  as  it  is  called,  is  a 
foundation  of  Black  music  and  has 
often  been  ignored  as  new  music  trends 
creep  on  the  scene.  But  like  the  "spirit- 
ual", "gospel"  is  classic,  and  classics 
are  never  destroyed.  Albeit  some  musi- 
cologists attempt  to  define  Black  music 
modes  in  a  variety  of  terms,  others 
view  these  modes  (i.e.  gospel,  spirituals, 
etc.)  as  being  the  same.  Thus,  the  gos- 
pel-spiritual-jazz-blues idioms  are  all 
derivative  of  one  source:  the  African 
music  antecedent.  One  group  in 
particular  has  maintained  identification 
with  the  characteristics  of  these  idioms; 
that  is  Dorothy  Love  Coates  and  the 
Gospel  Harmonettes. 

In  the  beginning,  the  group  was 
known  as  the  Gospel  Harmonettes  with 
its  start  in  Birmingham,  Alabama 
around  1948.  The  group's  first  big  hit 
was  "You  Must  Be  Born  Again"  on 
RCA  records.  Soon,  the  young  and 
energetic  Dorothy  Love  joined  the 
group.  Dorothy  had  been  the  pianist 
in  her  church  since  childhood  and  she 
brought  her  natural  gift  and  her  crea- 


tivity to  the  Alabama  group. 

The  original  Harmonettes  were  Mil- 
dred Miller  (Howard),  Vera  Kolb, 
Willie  Mae  Newberry  (Garth),  Odessa 
Edwards  and  Dorothy  Love  (Coates). 
Evelyn  Starks  served  as  the  pianist  for 
the  group  and  Odessa  Edwards  was  the 
narrator. 

In  1951,  the  group  moved  to  Special- 
ty Records  and  recorded  such  hits  as 
"He's  Calling  Me",  "No  Hiding  Place", 
"99'/2",  "Where  Shall  I  Be?",  "He's 
Right  on  Time",  "I'm  Sealed",  "You 
Better  Run",  "That's  Enough",  and  the 
ever  popular,  "Get  Away  Jordan". 

Also  in  the  fities,  the  goup  added  the 
talented,  Joe  Washington  as  pianist. 
Washington  keyboard  skills  accompan- 
ied the  moving  renditions  of  the  Har- 
monettes in  grand  style.  The  group 
began  to  make  its  mark  in  the 
music  industry. 

The  Harmonettes  moved  to  Savoy 
Records  and  continued  to  record  such 
hits  as  "Come  on  in  this  House",  "So 
Many  Years",  and  "No  Rest  for  the 
Weary". 


In  1959,  Dorothy  Love  retired  from 
the  group,  however,  she  returned  in 
1961  with  new  vigor.  Dorothy's  voice 
was  as  strong  as  ever  despite  rumors 
that  she  was  told  by  doctors  not  to  sing 
again  and  that  she  had  lost  one  of  her 
lungs.  Dorothy  became  the  narrator 
when  Odessa  Edwards  left  the  group. 
Qeo  Kennedy  replaced  Vera  Kold  as 
soprano  and  Lillian  McGriff,  Dorothy's 
sister,  was  also  added. 

When  the  group  moved  to  Nashboro 
Records,  the  hits  began  to  flow  again. 

Johnny  Gaines  served  as  pianist  and 
Washington  returned  to  record  two  al- 
bums with  the  group  as  the  pianist.  It 
was  the  first  of  these  two  albums  that 
contained  one  of  their  greatest  hits, 
"I  Won't  Let  Go  (of  my  Faith)", 
Dorothy  exemplifies  her  vitality  as  she 
glides  across  the  lyrics  in  spiritual  es- 
sence. She  sings  of  the  "unshakeable" 
faith  maintained  through  life's  turmoils. 
Washington  plays  the  organ  as  if  it  is  a 
part   of  him.  He  makes  it  answer  the 


81 


climaxes  staged  by  Dorothy.  Mildred, 
Willie  Mae,  Cleo  and  Lillian  give  strong 
support  in  the  background  to  keep  the 
selection  moving.  Other  highlights  in- 
clude, "Heaven,  I  Heard  so  Much  about 
It",  "Everyday  Will  Be  Sunday",  "I'm 
on  My  Way",  and  Dorothy's  arrange- 
ment of  "Farther  Along". 

Dorothy  composed  and/or  arranged 
all  of  the  selections  for  this  and  sub- 
sequent albums  and  with  the  expertise 
of  producer  Shannon  Williams,  the 
group  could  do  no  wrong.  Many  hits 
followed. 

The  subsequent  album,  "Separation 
Line",  is  not  as  rewarding  as  its  pre- 
decessor. Perhaps  this  is  due  to  the  wide 
recognition  of  "I'm  Holding  On"  and 
"Everyday  Will  be  Sunday".  It  does 
include  good  selections  like  "The 
Chariot",  "Shake  My  Mother's  Hand  for 
Me",  and  "Come  on  and  Go  with  Me". 
Nevertheless,  Dorothy  proves  that  she 
can  do  it  again  and  again  with  albums 
"Seeds  of  Truth"  and  "The  Winner", 
"That's  Alright  with  Me"  is  the  high- 
light of  the  first  album  and  was  a  big 
hit.  Mildred  continues  to  do  some  of 
the  lead  singing  as  she  leads  "My  Soul 
Needs  Resting".  "If  I  Had  My  Way" 
was  another  moving  narrative. 

"The  Winner"  included  the  title 
track  as  well  as  such  old  favorites  as 
"Canaan",  "Love  Lifted  Me",  and  top 
hits,  "Stop,  Take  A  Little  Time  to 
Pray"  and  "They  Won't  Believe". 

The  group  began  to  receive  awards 
after  a  string  of  albums  at  Nashboro 
including  two  greatest  hits  albums," 
Our  Greatest  Hits"  and  "The  Best  of 
Dorothy  Love  Coates  and  the  Gospel 
Harmonettes".  In  1970,  they  received 
the  Golden  Mike  Award  for  the  Best 
Female  Gospel  Group  from  the  Nation- 
al Association  of  Television  and  Radio 
Announcers  and  also  the  Thomas  A. 
Dorsey  Award. 

In  the  mid-seventies,  Dorothy  re- 
turned to  Savoy  Records,  but  without 
the  other  original  Harmonettes,  Mildred 
Miller  Howard  and  Willie  Mae  Newberry 
Garth.  The  billing  became  Dorothy 
Love  Coates  and  her  Singers.  In  1977 
she  recorded  an  album,  "These  Are  the 
Days".  Dorothy  continues  to  be  as 
lively  and  as  energetic  as  she  was  in  the 
fifties.  She  instills  that  old-time  singing 
for  which  she  is  known  in  "The  Power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost"  and  "Amen".  The 
group  also  included  jazz  notations  in 
"Heaven". 


The  next  year  she  came  back  with  an 
album,  "A  City  Built  Four  Square"  with 
still  more  personnel  changes.  The  singers 
were  Gwen  Moore,  Debra  Nunn,  Evelyn 
Thurman,  Booker  Sedecor  and  her  sister 
Lillian  McGriff  Caffey.  Rev.  Charles 
Kemp  served  as  pianist. 

The  eighties  brought  about  more 
changes  in  Dorothy's  musical  career. 
She  became  a  soloist.  She  had  recorded 
some  solos  on  previous  albums,  but  now 
she  does  mostly  solos  and  a  few  duets 
on  her  recordings.  She  also  moved  back 
to  Nashboro  Records  where  she  had 
been  so  successful.  In  addition  ot  the 
solo  albums,  she  also  recorded  a  live 
concert  with  the  B  &  M  Choir.  She  per- 
formed her  great  hit  "I  Won't  Let  Go" 
and  "You've  Been  Good  to  Me." 

Dorothy  has  provided  her  audiences 
with   her  narrations   for  years.   She  is 
able  to  quote  the  Bible  with  great  ease 
and  often  employs  bibical  events  in  her 
songs.  Like  the  Black  preacher,  she  re- 
creates  the   events   in  a  vivid  manner. 
For    example,    she    retells    Sampson's 
betrayal  and  suffering  in  "If  I  Had  My 
Way".  She  tells  of  Jacob's  sickness  in 
"He's  Right  on  Time".  She  gives  an  ac- 
count  of  John's   being  decapitated  in 
"99V2".   In  addition,  she  also  uses  life 
experiences   to   bring   her  songs  to  an 
apex.  She  recaptures  an  old  saint  in  a 
hot  cotton  field  who  is  sold  away  from 
all  his  loved  ones  in  "The  Chariot".  She 
even   sings    of  present   day  heroes  like 
Martin    Luther    King,    Jr.    and    Robert 
Kennedy  in  "They  Won't  Believe"  along 
with  such  old  heroes  as  Lot,  Noah,  and 
Jeremiah.  She  invites  the  world  to  come 
and  have  a  good  time  dancing,  shouting, 
speaking-in-tounges,    and    baptizing    in. 
the  house  of  the  Lord  in  "Come  in  this 
House".    She   warns  sinners  that  there 
will  be  no  place  to  hide  at  the  end  of 
time   in   "No  Hiding  Place".  She  con- 
firms  her   faith  and  redemption  in  "I 
Won't  Let  Go"  and  "I'm  Sealed".  She 
also  sings  of  the  future  where  she  and 
the  saints  will   dwell  in  the  bosom  of 
God's  eternal  grace  in  "Everyday  Will 
Be   Sunday",   "Heaven,   I've  Heard  So 
Much  about  It",  and  "Heaven".  She  in- 
quires about  the  future  in  "Where  Shall 
I  Be?"  and  "Canaan".  Of  course,  she 
faces  the  River  Jordan  (often  used  as  a 
synonym  for  death  in  African-American 
songs  and  sermons)  and  wants  to  cross 
over  in  "Get  Away  Jordan".  Ib  short, 
her  compositions  cover  every  spectrum 
of  spiritual-physical  life. 


Dorothy's  voice  has  been  described 
as  "rough"  by  some  writers  and  a  few 
even  note  that  she  is  not  considered  a 
great  singer.  But  this  is  so  untrue  to 
many  of  her  listeners.  Some  writers 
and  musicologists  fail  to  realize  that  the 
voice  in  African  and  African-American 
music  is  not  judged  by  the  same  stand- 
ards as  in  Euro-American  music.  The 
vioce  is  used  for  the  purpose  of  the 
song,  so  a  variety  of  voice  types  are  em- 
ployed in  African-American  music  and 
all  types  are  valued.  Dorothy's  voice  is 
typical  of  the  mode  used  in  many  spirit- 
ual songs.  She  oftens  becomes  hoarse 
during  her  performances  but  this  does 
not  take  away  from  the  song;  it  embel- 
lishes it  and  the  audiences  show  their 
appreciation  of  it.  It  is  a  talent  shared 
with  other  Black  singers,  including 
Harmonette  Mildred  Miller  Howard  who 
also  owns  what  many  consider  a  good 
gospel  voice. 

Dorothy  has  composed  and/or  ar- 
ranged over  300  songs,  yet  she  still  has- 
n't received  the  deserved  recognition. 
Others  have  often  had  greater  success 
with  some  of  her  compositions.  One 
reason  is  that  her  songs  don't  receive 
much  airplay  as  many  Black  stations 
have  either  cut  gospel  music  out  of  their 
programming  all  together  or  have  re- 
duced it  to  a  minimum.  Unfortunately, 
she  is  not  one  of  the  crossover  singers 
like  Shirley  Caesar,  Andrea  Crouch  of 
the  Mighty  Clouds  of  Joy,  who  have 
managed  to  get  some  air  play  during  the 
radio  programming  usually  reserved  for 
rhythm  and  blues.  Some  stations  will 
play  gospel  songs  recorded  by  rhythm 
and  blues  artists,  like  Lionel  Ritchie  and 
Deniece  Williams  and  others  but  will  not 
play  gospel  selections  by  gospel  singers. 

Dorothy  Love  Coates  has  continued 
to  record  for  over  30  years  and  can  still 
manage  to  bring  a  crowd  to  a  foot- 
stomping  hand-clapping,  soul-lifting 
jubilee  just  as  she  did  in  the  eariy  fifties. 
To  many  who  enjoy  the  old-time  sing- 
ing as  well  as  modern  idioms,  her  voice 
rings  in  melodious  sensations  as  it  leaps 
from  valleys  to  mountains,  telling  of  the 
many  manifestations  of  faith,  belief, 
love,  peace,  trouble,  pain,  sorrow,  tri- 
bulation, suffering,  joy,  happiness  and 
mercy.  The  "old  saints"  of  the  cotton 
fields  as  well  as  the  ancestors  of  the 
African  homeland  are  delighted  in  their 
gifted  child  of  today.  She  is  determined 
to  be  a  winner  at  the  "finishing  line". 


82 


<^^^' 


SALUTE  TO 
MARVIN  GAYE 


m 


SALUTE  TO  MARVIN  GAVE 


I  don't  have  much  work  to  do 
around  the  house  like  some  girls.  My 
mother  does  that.  And  I  don't  have  to 
earn  my  pocket  money  by  hustling; 
George  runs  errands  for  the  big  boys 
and  sells  Christmas  cards.  And  anything 
else  that's  got  to  be  done,  my  father 
does.  All  I  have  to  do  in  life  is  mind  my 
brother  Raymond,  which  is  enough. 

Sometimes  I  slip  and  say  my  little 
brother  Raymond.  But  as  any  fool  can 
see  he's  much  bigger  and  he's  older  too. 
But  a  lot  of  people  call  him  my  little 
brother  cause  he  needs  looking  after 
cause  he's  not  quite  right.  And  a  lot  of 
smart  mouths  got  lots  to  say  about  that 
too,  especially  when  George  was  mind- 
ing him.  But  now,  if  anybody  has  any- 
thing to  say  to  Raymond,  anything  to 
say  about  his  big  head,  they  have  to 
come  by  me.  And  I  don't  play  the 
dozens  or  believe  in  standing  around 
with  somebody  in  my  face  doing  a  lot 
of  talking.  I  much  rather  just  knock 
you  down  and  take  my  chances  even  if 
I  am  a  little  girl  with  skinny  arms  and  a 
squeaky  voice,  which  is  how  I  got  the 
name  Squeaky.  And  if  things  get  too 
rough,  I  run.  And  as  anybody  can  tell 
you,  I'm  the  fastest  thing  on  two  feet. 

There  is  no  track  meet  that  I  don't 
win  the  first  place  medal.  I  used  to  win 
the  twenty-yard  dash  when  I  was  a  little 
kid  in  kindergarden.  Nowadays,  it's 
the  fifty-yard  dash.  And  tomorrow  I'm 
subject  to  run  the  quarter-meter  relay 
all  by  myself  and  come  in  first,  second, 
and  third.  The  big  kids  call  me  Mercury 
cause  I'm  the  swiftest  thing  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. Everybody  knows  that— ex- 
cept two  people  who  know  better— my 
father  and  me.  He  can  beat  me  to 
Amsterdam  Avenue  with  me  having  a 
two  fire-hydrant-headstart  and  him  run- 
ning with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
whistling.  But  that's  private  informa- 
tion. Cause  can  you  imagine  some 
thirty-five-year-old  man  stuffing  him- 
self into  PAL  shorts  to  race  little  kids? 
So  as  far  as  everyone's  concerned,  I'm 
the  fastest  and  that  goes  for  Gretchen, 
too,  who  has  put  out  the  tale  that  she 
is  going  to  vrin  the  first-place  medal 
this  year.  Ridiculous.  In  the  second 
place,  she's  got  short  legs.  In  the  third 
place,  she's  got  freckles.  In  the  first 
place,  no  one  can  beat  me  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it. 

I'm  standing  on  the  corner  admiring 
the  weather  and  about  to  take  a  stroll 
down  Broadway  so  I  can  practice  my 


breathing  exercises,  and  I've  got  Ray- 
mond walking  on  the  inside  close  to  the 
buildings,  cause  he's  subject  to  fits  of 
fantasy  and  starts  thinking  he's  a  circus 
performer  and  that  the  curb  is  a  tight- 
rope strung  high  in  the  air.  And  some- 
times after  a  rain  he  likes  to  step  down 
off  his  tightrope  right  into  the  gutter 
and  slosh  around  getting  his  shoes  and 
cuffs  wet.  Then  I  get  hit  when  I  get 
home.  Or  sometimes  if  you  don't  watch 
him  he'll  dash  across  traffic  to  the 
island  in  the  middle  of  Broadway  and 
give  the  pigeons  a  fit.  Then  I  have  to  go 
behind  him  apologizing  to  all  the  old 
people  sitting  around  trying  to  get  some 
sun  and  getting  all  upset  with  the  pig- 
eons fluttering  around  them,  scattering 
their  newspapers  and  upsetting  the 
waxpaper  lunches   in   their  laps.   So  I 


she  won  the  spelling  bee  for  the  mil- 
lionth time,  "A  good  thing  you  got 
'receive,'  Squeaky,  cause  I  would  have 
got  it  wrong.  I  completely  forgot  about 
the  spelling  bee"  And  she'll  clutch  the 
lace  on  her  blouse  like  it  was  a  narrow 
excape.  Oh,  brother.  But  of  course 
when  I  pass  her  house  on  my  early 
morning  trots  around  the  block,  she  is 
practicing  the  scales  on  the  piano  over 
and  over  and  over  and  over.  Then  in 
music  class  she  always  let  herself  get 
bumped  around  so  she  falls  accidentally 
on  purpose  onto  the  piano  stool  and  is 
so  surprised  to  find  herself  sitting  there 
that  she  decides  just  for  fun  to  try  out 
the  ole  keys.  And  what  do  you  know- 
Chopin's  waltzes  just  spring  out  of  her 
fingertips  and  she's  the  most  surprised 
thing  in  the  world.  A  regular  prodigy.  I 


AN 
EXCERPT  FROM 


by 


TONI  CADE  BAMBARA 


keep  Raymond  on  the  inside  of  me,  and 
he  plays  like  he's  driving  a  stage  coach 
which  is  O.K.  by  me  so  long  as  he, 
doesn't  run  me  over  or  interrupt  my 
breating  exercises,  which  I  have  to  do 
on  account  of  I'm  serious  about  my 
running,  and  I  don't  care  who  knows  it. 
Now  some  people  like  to  act  like 
things  come  easy  to  them,  won't  let  on 
that  they  practice.  Not  me.  I'll  high- 
prance  down  34th  Street  like  a  rodeo 
pony  to  keep  my  knees  strong  even  if 
it  does  get  my  mother  uptight  so  that 
she  walks  ahead  like  she's  not  with  me, 
don't  know  me,  is  all  by  herself  on  a 
shopping  trip,  and  I  am  somebody 
else's  crazy  child.  Now  you  take 
Cynthia  Procter  for  instance.  She's 
just  the  opposite.  If  there's  a  test  to- 
morrow, she'll  say  something  like,  "Oh, 
I  guess  I'll  play  handball  this  afternoon 
and  watch  television  like  last  week  when 


could  kill  people  like  that.  I  stay  up  all 
night  studying  the  words  for  the  spelling 
bee.  And  you  can  see  me  any  time  of 
day  practicing  running.  I  never  walk  if  I 
can  trot,  and  shame  on  Raymond  if  he 
can't  keep  up.  But  of  course  he  does, 
cause  if  he  hangs  back  someone's  liable 
to  walk  up  to  him  and  get  smart,  or  take 
his  allowance  from  him,  or  ask  him 
where  he  got  that  great  big  pumpkin 
head.  People  are  so  stupid  sometimes. 

So  I'm  strolling  down  Broadway 
breathing  out  and  breathing  in  on 
counts  of  seven,  which  is  my  lucky 
number,  and  here  comes  Gretchen  and 
her  sidekicks:  Mary  Louise,  who  used  to 
be  a  friend  of  mine  when  she  first 
moved  to  Harlem  from  Baltimore  and 
got  beat  up  by  everybody  till  It  took  up 
for  her  on  account  of  her  mother  and 
my   mother  used  to  sing  in  the  same 


85 


choir  when  they  were  young  girls,  but 
people  ain't  grateful,  so  now  she  hangs 
out  with  the  new  girl  Gretchen  and  talks 
about  me  like  a  dog;  and  Rosie,  who  is 
as  fat  as  I  am  skinny  and  has  a  big 
mouth  where  Raymond  is  concerned 
and  is  too  stupid  to  know  that  there 
is  not  a  big  deal  of  difference  between 
herself  and  Raymond  and  that  she  can 
afford  to  throw  sotnes.  So  they  are 
steady  comign  up  Broadway  and  I  see 
right  away  that  it's  going  to  be  one  of 
those  Dodge  City  scenes  cause  the 
street  ain't  that  big  and  they're  close 
to  the  buildings  just  as  we  are.  First  I 
think  I'll  pass.  But  that's  chicken  and 
I've  got  a  reputation  ot  consider.  So 
then  I  think  I'll  just  walk  straight 
through  them  or  even  over  them  if 
neccessary.  But  as  they  get  to  me,  they 
slow  down.  I'm  ready  to  fight,  cause 
like  I  said  I  don't  feature  a  whole  lot  of 
chit-chat,  I  much  prefer  to  just  knock 
you  down  right  fromt  he  jump  and  save 
everybody  a  lotta  precious  time. 

"You  signing  up  for  the  May  Day 
races?"  smiles  Mary  Louise,  only  it's 
not  a  smile  at  all.  A  dumb  question  like 
that  doesn't  deserve  an  answer.  Besides, 
there's  just  me  and  Gretchen  standing 
there  really,  so  no  use  wasting  my 
breath  talking  to  shadows. 

"I  don't  think  you're  going  to  win 
this  time,"  says  Rosie,  trying  to  signify 
with  her  hands  on  her  hips  all  salty, 
completely  forgetting  that  I  have 
whupped  her  behind  many  times  for 
less  salt  than  that. 

"I  always  win  cause  I'm  the  best,"  I 
say  straight  at  Gretchen  who  is,  as  far 
as  I'm  concerned,  the  only  one  talking 
in  this  ventriloquist-dummy  routine. 
Gretchen  smiles,  but  it's  not  a  smile, 
and  I'm  thinking  that  girls  never  really 
smile  at  each  other  because  they  don't 
know  how  and  don't  want  to  know  how 
and  there's  probably  no  one  to  teach  us 
how,  cause  grown-up  girls  don't  know 
either.  Then  they  all  look  at  Raymond 
who  has  just  brought  his  mule  team  to  a 
standstill.  And  they're  about  to  see 
what  trouble  they  can  get  into  through 
him. 

"What  grade  you  in  now,  Ray- 
mond?" 

"You  got  anything  to  say  to  my 
brother,  you  say  it  to  me,  Mary  Louise 
Williams  of  Raggedy  Town,  Baltimore." 

"What  are  you,  his  mother?"  sasses 
Rosie. 


"That's  right.  Fatso.  And  the  next 
word  out  of  anybody  and  I'll  be  their 
mother  too."  So  they  just  stand  there 
and  Gretchen  shifts  from  one  leg  to  the 
other  and  so  do  they.  Then  Gretchen 
puts  her  hands  on  her  hips  and  is  about 
to  say  something  with  her  freckle-face 
self  but  doesn't.  Then  she  walks  around 
me  looking  me  up  and  down  but  keeps 
walking  up  Broadway,  and  her  sidekicks 
follow  her.  So  me  and  Raymond  smile 
at  each  other  and  he  says,  "Gidyap"  to 
his  team  and  I  continue  with  my  breath- 
ing exercises,  strolling  down  Broadway 
toward  the  ice  man  on  145th  with  not 
a  care  in  the  world  cause  I  am  Miss 
Quicksilver  herself. 

I  take  my  time  getting  to  the  park  on 
May  Day  because  the  track  meet  is  the 
last  thing  on  the  program.  The  biggest 
thing  on  the  program  is  the  May  Pole 
dancing,  which  I  can  do  without,  thank 
you,  even  if  my  mother  thinks  it's  a 
shame  I  don't  take  part  and  act  like 
a  girl  for  a  change.  You'd  think  my 
mother'd  be  grateful  not  to  have 
to  make  me  a  white  organdy  dress 
with  a  big  satin  sash  and  buy  me  new 
white  baby-doll  shoes  that  can't  be 
taken  out  of  the  box  till  the  big  day. 
You'd  think  she'd  be  glad  her  daughter 
ain't  out  there  prancing  around  a  May 
Pole  getting  the  new  clothes  all  dirty 
and  sweaty  and  trying  to  act  like  a 
fairy  or  a  flower  or  whatever  you're 
supposed  to  be  when  you  should 
be  trying  to  be  yourself,  whatever  that 
is,  which  is,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
a  poor  Black  girl  who  really  can't  afford 
to  buy  shoes  and  a  new  dress  you  only 
wear  once  a  lifetime  cause  it  won't 
fit  next  year. 

I  was  once  a  strawberry  in  a  Hansel 
and  Gretel  pageant  when  I  was  in  nur- 
sery school  and  didn't  have  no  better 
sense  than  to  dance  on  tiptoe  with  my 
arms  in  a  circle  over  my  head  doing 
umbrella  steps  and  being  a  perfect  fool 
just  so  my  mother  and  father  could 
come  dressed  up  and  clap.  You'd  think 
they'd  know  better  than  to  encourage 
that  kind  of  nonsense.  I  am  not  a  straw- 
berry. I  do  not  dance  on  my  toes.  I  run. 

That  is  what  I  am  all  about.  So  I  always 
come  late  to  the  May  Day  program, 
just  in  time  to  get  my  number  pinned 
on  and  lay  in  the  grass  till  they  an- 
nounce the  fifty-yard  dash. 

I  put  Raymond  in  the  little  swings, 
which  is  a  tight  squeeze  this  year  and 


will  be  impossible  next  year.  Then  I 
look  around  for  Mr.  Pearson,  who  pins 
the  numbers  on.  I'm  really  looking  for 
Gretchen  if  you  want  to  know  the 
truth,  but  she's  not  around.  The  park 
is  jam-packed.  Parents  in  hats  and  cor- 
sages and  breast-pocket  handkerchiefs 
peeking  up.  Kids  in  white  dresses  and 
light-blue  suits.  The  parkees  unfolding 
chairs  and  chasing  the  rowdy  kids  from 
Lenox  as  if  they  had  no  right  to  be 
there.  The  big  guys  with  their  caps  on 
backwards,  leaning  against  the  fence 
swirling  the  basketballs  on  the  tips 
of  their  fingers,  waiting  for  all  these 
crazy  people  to  clear  out  the  park  so 
they  can  play.  Most  of  the  kids  in  my 
class  are  carrying  bass  drums  and 
glockenspiels  and  flutes.  You'd  think 
they'd  put  in  a  few  bongos  or  something 
for  real  like  that. 

Then  here  comes  Mr.  Pearson  with 
his  clipboard  and  his  cards  and  pencils 
and  whistles  and  safety  pins  and  fifty 
million  other  things  he's  always  drop- 
ping all  over  the  place  with  his  clumsy 
self.  He  sticks  out  in  a  crowd  because 
he's  on  stilts.  We  used  to  call  him  Jack 
and  the  Beanstalk  to  get  him  mad.  But 
I'm  the  only  one  that  can  outrun  him 
and  get  away,  and  I'm  too  grown  for 
that  silliness  now. 

"Well,  Squeaky,"  he  says,  checking 
my  name  off  the  list  and  handing  me 
number  seven  and  two  pins.  And  I'm. 
thinking  he's  got  no  right  to  call  me 
Squeaky,  if  I  can't  call  him  Beanstalk. 

"Hazel  Elizabeth  Deborah  Parker," 
I  correct  him  and  tell  him  to  write  it 
down  on  his  board. 

"Well,  Hazel  Elizebeth  Deborah 
Parker,  going  to  give  some  else  a  break 
this  year?"  I  squint  at  him  real  hard  to 
see  if  he  is  seriously  thinking  I  should 
lose  the  race  on  purpose  just  to  give 
someone  else  a  break.  "Only  six  girls 
running  this  time,"  he  continues, 
shaking  his  head  sadly  like  it's  my  fault 
all  of  New  York  didn't  turn  out  in 
sneakers.  "That  new  girl  should  give 
you  a  run  for  your  money".  He  looks 
around  the  park  for  Gretchen  like  a 
periscope  in  a  submarine  movie. 
"Wouldn't  it  be  a  nice  gesture  if  you 
were  ...  to  ahhh  .  .  ." 

I  give  him  such  a  look  he  couldn't 
finish  putting  that  idea  into  words. 
Grownups  got  a  lot  of  nerve  sometimes. 
I  pin  number  seven  to  myself  and  stomp 
away,  I'm  so  burnt.  And  I  go  straight 
for  the   track  and  stretch  out  on  the 


86 


grass  while  the  band  winds  up  with  "Oh, 
the  Monkey  Wrapped  His  Tail  Around 
the  Flag  Pole,"  which  my  teacher  calls 
by  some  other  name.  The  man  on  the 
loudspeaker  is  calling  everyone  over  to 
the  track  and  I'm  on  my  back  looking 
at  the  sky,  trying  to  pretend  I'm,  in  the 
country,  but  I  can't,  because  even  grass 
in  the  city  feels  hard  as  sidewalk,  and 
there's  just  no  pretending  you  are  any- 
where but  on  a  "concrete  jungle"  as 
my  grandfather  says. 

The   twenty-yard   dash  takes   all  of 
two   minutes   cause   most  of  the  little 
kids  don't  know  no  better  than  to  run 
off  the  track  or  run  the  wrong  way  or 
run  smack  into  the  fence  and  fall  down 
and  cry.  One  little  kid,  though,  has  got 
the  good  sense  to  run  straight  for  the 
white  ribbon  up  ahead  so  he  wins.  Then 
the    second-graders    line    up    for    the 
thirty-yard    dash    and    I    don't    even 
bother  to  turn  my  head  to  watch  cause 
Raphael    Perez   always   wins.   He  wins 
before  he  even  begins  by  psyching  the 
runners,  telling  them  they're  going  to 
trip  on  their  shoelaces  and  fall  on  their 
faces  or  lose  their  shorts  or  something, 
which  he  doesn't  really  have  to  do  since 
he  is  very  fast,  almost  as  fast  as  I  am. 
After  that  is  the  forty-yard  dash  which  I 
use  to  run  when  I  was  in  first  grade. 
Raymond  is  hollering  from  the  swings 
cause   he  knows  I'm  about  to  do  my 
thing  cause  the  man  on  the  loudspeaker 
has  just  announced  the  fifty-yard  dash, 
although  he  might  just  as  well  be  giving 
a  recipe  for  angel  food  cake  cause  you 
can  hardly  make  out  what  he's  saying 
from  the  static.  I  get  up  and  slip  off  my 
sweat  pants   and   then  I  see  Gretchen 
standing  at  the  starting  line,  kicking  her 
legs  out  like  a  pro.  Then-  as  I  get  into 
place  I  see  that  ole  Raymond  is  on  line 
on  the  other  side  of  the  fence,  bending 
down  with  his  fingers  on  the  ground  just 
like  he  knew  what  he  was  doing.  I  was 
going  to  yell  at  him  but  then  I  didn't.  It 
burns  up  your  energy  to  holler. 

Every  time,  just  before  I  take  off  in 
a  race,  I  always  feel  like  I'm  in  a  dream, 
the  kind  of  dream  you  have  when 
You're  sick  with  fever  and  feel  all  hot 
and  weightless.  I  dream  I'm  flying  over 
a  sandy  beach  in  the  early  morning  sun, 
kissing  the  leaves  of  the  trees  as  I  fly 
by.  And  there's  always  the  smell  of 
apples,  just  hke  in  the  country  when  I 
was  little  and  used  to  think  I  was  a 
choo-choo  train,  running  through  the 
fields  of  com  and  chugging  up  the  hill 


to  the  orchard.  And  all  the  time  I'm 
dreaming  this,  I  get  lighter  and  lighter 
until  I'm  flying  over  the  beach  again, 
getting  blown  through  the  sky  like  a 
feather  that  weighs  nothing  at  all.  But 
once  I  spread  my  fingers  in  the  dirt  and 
crouch  over  the  Get  on  Your  Mark,  the 
dream  goes  and  I  am  solid  again  and  am 
telling  myself.  Squeaky  you  must  win, 
you  must  win,  you  are  the  fastest  thing 
in  the  world,  you  can  even  beat  you 
father  up  Amsterdam  if  you  really  try. 
And  then  I  feel  my  weight  coming  back 
just  behind  my  knees  then  down  to  my 
feet  then  into  the  earth  and  the  pistol 
shot  explodes  in  my  blood  and  I  am  off 
and  weightless  again,  flying  past  the 
other  runners,  my  arms  pumping  up  and 
down  and  the  whole  world  is  quiet 
except  for  the  crunch  as  I  zoom  over 
the  gravel  in  the  track.  I  glance  to  my 
left  and  there  is  no  one.  To  the  right, 
a  blurred  Gretchen,  who's  got  her  chin 
jutting  out  as  if  it  would  win  the  race 
all  by  itself.  And  on  the  other  side  of 
the  fence  is  Raymond  with  his  arms 
down  to  his  side  and  the  palms  tucked 
up  behind  him,  running  in  his  very  own 
style,  and  it's  the  first  time  I  ever  saw 
that  and  I  almost  stop  to  watch  my 
brother  Raymond  on  his  first  run.  But 
the  white  ribbon  is  bouncing  toward  me 
and  I  tear  past  it,  racing  into  the  dis- 
tance till  my  feet  with  a  mind  of  their 
own  start  digging  up  footfuls  of  dirt  and 
brake  me  short.  Then  all  the  kids 
standing  on  the  side  pile  on  me,  banging 
me  on  the  back  and  slapping  my  head 
with  their  May  Day  programs,  for  I  have 
won  again  and  everybody  on  151st 
Street  can  walk  tail  for  another  year. 

"In  first  palce  .  .  ."  the  man  on  the 
loudspeaker  is  clear  as  a  bell  now.  But 
then  he  pauses  and  the  loudspeaker 
starts  to  whine.  Then  static.  And  I  lean 
down  to  catch  my  breath  and  here 
comes  Gretchen  walking  back,  for  she's 
over  shot  the  finish  line  too,  huffing  and 
puffing  with  her  hands  on  her  hips  tak- 
ing it  slow,  breathing  in  steady  time  like 
a  real  pro  and  I  sort  of  like  her  a  little 
for  the  first  time.  "In  first  place  .  .  ." 
and  then  three  or  four  voices  get  all 
mixed  up  on  the  loudspeaker  and  I  dig 
my  sneaker  into  the  grass  and  stare  at 
Gretchen  who's  staring  back,  we  both 
wondering  just  who  did  win.  I  can  hear 
old  Beanstalk  arguing  with  the  man  on 
the  loudspeaker  and  then  a  few  others 
running  their  mouths  about  what  the 
stopwatches  say.  Then  I  hear  Raymond 


yanking  at  the  fence  to  call  me  and  I 
wave  to  shush  him,  but  he  keeps  rattling 
the  fence  like  a  gorilla  in  a  cage  like  in 
them  gorilla  movies,  but   then  like   a 
dancer  or  something  he  starts  climbing 
up  nice  and  easy  but  very  fast.  And  it 
occurs  to  me,  watching  how  smoothly 
he  climbs  hand  over  hand  and  remem- 
bering how  he  looked  running  with  his 
arms  down  to  his  side  and  with  the  wind 
pulling  his  mouth  back  and  his  teeth 
showing  and  all,  it  occurred  to  me  that 
Raymond    would    make    a    very    fine 
runner.  Doesn't  he  always  keep  up  with 
me  on  my  trots?  And  he  surely  knows 
how  to  breathe  in  counts  of  seven  cause 
he's  always  doing  it  at  the  dinner  table, 
which  drives  my  brother  George  up  the 
wall.  And  I'm  smiling  to  beat  the  band 
cause  if  I've  lost  this  race,  or  if  me  and 
Gretchen  tied,  or  even  if  I've  won,  I  can 
always  retire  as  a  runner  and  begin  a 
whole  new  career  as  a  coach  with  Ray- 
mond as  my  champion.  After  all,  with 
a  little  more  study  I  can  beat  Cynthia 
and  her  phony  self  at  the  spelling  bee. 
And  if  I  bugged  my  mother,  I  could 
get   piano  lessons   and  become  a  star. 
And  I  have  a  big  rep  as  the  baddest 
thing  around.  And  I've  got  a  roomful 
of  ribbons  and  medals  and  awards.  But 
what  has  Raymond  got  to  call  his  own? 
So  I  stand  there  with  my  new  plans, 
laughing  out  loud  by  this  time  as  Ray- 
mond jumps  down  from  the  fence  and 
runs  over  with  his  teeth  showing  and  his 
arms  down  to  the  side,  which  no  one 
before  him  has  quite  mastered  as  a  run- 
ning style.  And  by  the  time  he  comes 
over  I'm  jumping  up  and  down  so  glad 
to   see  him— my  brother   Raymond,  a 
great  runner  in  the  family  tradition.  But 
of  course  everyone  thinks  I'm  jumping 
up  and  down  because  the  men  on  the 
loudspeaker  have  finally  gotten  them- 
selves   together    and    compared    notes 
and    are    announcing  "In   first   place- 
Miss  Hazel  Elizabeth  Deborah  Parker." 
(Dig     that)     "In     second     place— Miss 
Gretchen  P.  Lewis."  And  I  look  over 
at   Gretchen   wondering  what  the  "P" 
stands  for.  And  I  smile.  We  stand  there 
with  this  big  smile  of  respect  between 
us.   It's   about   as  real  a  smile  as  girls 
can  do  for  each  other,  considering  we 
don't  practice   real  smiling  every  day, 
you  know,  cause  maybe  we  too  busy 
being   flowers   or  fairies   or  strawberr- 
ies   instead    of   something  honest  and 
worthy  of  respect  . . .  you  know  . . .  like 
being  people. 


87 


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V 

E 

"JESSE  JACKSON" 

1.  BIOGRAPHY 

2.  BUSINESS 

3.  CIVIL  RIGHTS 

4.  DEMOCRATIC 

5.  DISABLED  people 

6.  DISCRIMINATION 

7.  EDUCATION 

8.  ELDERLY 

9.  EMPLOYMENT 

10.  EQUAL 

11.  "FREE"  world 

12.  GREENVILLE 

13.  JESSE  JACKSON 

14.  MONDALE 

15.  NUCLEAR 

DISARMAMENT 

16.  PEACE 

17.  POLICY 

18.  FOREIGN  policy 

19.  POLITICS 

20.  POOR 

21.  PRESIDENT  * 

22.  operation  PUSH 

23.  RAINBOW 

CONNECTION 

24.  REAGAN 

25.  REGISTRATION* 

26.  REVEREND 

27.  SOUTH  CAROLINA 

28.  THIRD  world 

29.  VOTE* 

30.  WIN 


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